


Aevitas

by El_Conservatore



Series: Emma's Story [3]
Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 16:17:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 75,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17307791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/El_Conservatore/pseuds/El_Conservatore
Summary: The war is on hold for Emma Sinclair as she returns to Earth for rest and relaxation, but life isn't so simple. Her family and her heritage need dealing with, her relationships need resolving, and Mikoto needs mentoring too. Matriarchy politics complicate things as she starts a career to follow the path laid out by her wish. This will be the least relaxing vacation she's ever had.





	1. Early Morning Breakfast

Emma Sinclair was not used to leisurely breakfasts. She was used to waking up late for class, having unwisely ignored Anna’s probing fingers and feet, and rushing off to try not to be yelled at by her instructor. Alternatively, she was used to scarfing down a meal with artillery in the background, before running off to a mission briefing or ducking for cover as enemy rounds got too close for comfort. She was not used to looking at her family’s range at five in the morning and seriously considering the merits of frying up two eggs and four rashers of bacon, accompanied by two slices of toast and a mug of tea.

“Don’t even think about it,” said James Sinclair from his seat across the kitchen island. A mug of tea steamed quietly in front of him. Emma’s mother, Catherine Sinclair, and sister, Anna Sinclair, nursed similar mugs, the latter still half asleep. “You never learned how to cook, and I like having the house smelling nice.”

“Oh come off it,” said Emma, rolling her eyes at her father, “It’s not like I’d burn them that badly.”

“Yes you would,” said James blithely. He adjusted his tie. “We never taught you, and we all know those online courses are crap.”

“The VR ones aren’t bad.”

“Yes, but you haven’t spent any time this week learning how to cook,” said Catherine. “So, no, neither your father, nor myself, trust you with the stove.”

Emma snorted. While it was true that she’d spent the week either showing Mikoto around the city or hanging out with Anna and Ayumi, her parents didn’t give her nearly enough credit. If nothing else, Emma could smell when something was about to burn and get it out of the fire and into the sink.

“Did you sleep at all, Emma?” asked Catherine.

“Nah, watched a few vids, chatted with some friends about random stuff.” said Emma with a shrug. She turned around and leaned against the range, putting her hands in the pockets of a hoodie pulled from the closet in her bedroom. “You know how it is.”

“I’m sure,” said Catherine. She looked at her husband briefly, before turning back to Emma. “Well, it’s good that you’re keeping in contact. How is everyone doing?”

“They’re alright,” said Emma, shrugging again. “Most of them are busy dealing with some family stuff, but that’s to be expected.”

“Ah, yes,” said James, nodding. “Well, it’s not easy for us parents. I can see where they’re coming from.”

“Mm.”

“Family stuff” was probably an understatement. James and Catherine had surprised Emma by being relatively restrained. Emma had expected some variety of melodrama, but she’d largely been left to her own devices. At the same time, many things that used to irritate Emma now held no meaning. Training and combat had made them seem irrelevant in the bigger scheme of things. Things were still quietly strained between Emma and her parents, if everybody was honest, but things were improving. Now that she didn’t sleep, Emma had ended up finding herself around her parents a lot more. It was strange, since, in the past, they had always gone to work before Emma had woken up.

It was also strange seeing Anna in work clothes. The internship Anna had received was a sort of short-term thing that Anna’s mentor had arranged for a bit of hands-on experience in certain concepts, and would be wrapping up in a few weeks. It was more of a job-shadow, in that respect, but everyone called it an internship since that was easier. It meant that Emma had the entertaining privilege of waking her sister up, occasionally with a zap of magic, and pushing her in the general direction of the closet.

“Emma, do you want my tea?” Anna asked as she nudged the mug in Emma’s direction. “I’m going to have some coffee instead.”

“It’s getting late, Anna,” said Catherine, “we need to be leaving soon.”

“I know, I know,” said Anna blearily. “I set the temperature lower.”

The synthesizer beeped as Emma reached for the mug and took a sip. It was a bit sweeter than she liked.

“What were you doing to get this tired?” asked Emma.

“Work,” Anna mumbled. “I have a report due today.”

“Yeesh, they’re working you pretty hard,” said Emma. She waved a hand in the direction of the synthesizer and tugged the mug of coffee towards her with telekinesis. “Here.”

“Thanks,” said Anna, taking the coffee and drinking deeply.

“You know, caffeine tablets would work better,” said James. “Absorb faster too.”

Anna frowned at her father.

“That’s a desperation move, Dad. I’m not that bad off yet.”

“Uh huh. Says the girl who’s about to fall out of her chair.”

Anna made a displeased noise and drank the rest of her coffee, before standing up and swaying only slightly. “We should get going.”

James chuckled as he straightened his tie again. “Emma, before we go, don’t forget that we need to discuss the latest on the Shizuki situation later.

Emma sighed. “Do we have to?”

“Yes. I know it’s not the most fun of conversations, but the sooner we come to a decision the better.”

Emma sighed again. “Alright. After dinner?”

“That’s probably the most convenient time for all of us,” said Catherine. “Do you have a preference for some other time?”

“No, after dinner is fine. Mikoto will probably want to go do something, but I can figure something out.”

“Very well,” said Catherine, nodding. “In that case, have a good day Emma. We’ll see you later.”

“See you later Emma,” Anna said, pausing on the way out to give Emma a hug. “Have fun today, okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll try,” said Emma. “Have fun at work.”

“Heh, hopefully,” said Anna. “I wish I could just get my implants upgraded so I didn’t have to sleep. Honestly—”

“Anna, let’s go,” called James.

Anna huffed, and hugged Emma one more time. “Right, bye then.”

The door clicked as it shut, leaving Emma alone in the kitchen. She sighed, and sipped her tea.

“Oi, Mikoto,” said Emma, poking her head into her room. “Wake up.”

“Mnnhghh,” moaned Mikoto, blinking blearily at Emma before pulling the blankets over her head. “Nuuuu…”

“C’mon, it’s not like you actually need the sleep,” said Emma, rolling her eyes as she opened the door fully. “I already let you sleep the entire night.”

Mikoto mumbled something unintelligible and rolled herself off of Emma’s bed. She hit the ground with a thunk, then transformed in a flicker of green. Still groaning, Mikoto clambered to her feet, squeezed her eyes shut, and pushed the sleep out of her body with another flicker of green. The blankets and sheets were rearranged on Emma’s bed a moment later.

“It was only six hours,” said Mikoto as she detransformed. “And I was having a nice dream!”

“Yeah yeah,” said Emma, turning and heading for the front door. “Come on, we should try and get an early start on the day.”

“Oh, that’s right,” said Mikoto. She jumped to her feet and hurried after. “I’m signing up for classes today!”

“Yup,” said Emma. “I’ll bet the place gets busy quick, so we’ll—”

She paused. Mikoto had stopped walking. Emma turned around to see Mikoto standing in the hall, staring out the living room window at the sunrise-splashed view of transport pipes criss-crossing the airspace.

“Hey, come on,” said Emma, poking Mikoto mentally. “Don’t get distracted.”

“Sorry,” said Mikoto, flushing a little as she hurried over.

“Anyway, I was going to take you out for breakfast,” said Emma, stepping into her shoes. “We’ve spent most of the week eating at home, and it’s about time you experienced breakfast on a rooftop.”

“Ooo, that sounds cool!” said Mikoto with a little bounce of excitement. “Where at?”

“It’s out on the MSY Corridor,” said Emma as Mikot put on her shoes. “It’s called Kitsetsu no Izakaya, and does this neat thing where they have these trays of produce growing out of the tables. The food is harvested and cooked for you right there.”

Mikoto’s eyes widened. “At your table, even?”

“Apparently.”

“That sounds amazing!”

“It’s what they say on their site at least,” said Emma with a shrug. “Do you have everything you’ll need?”

“Yeah!”

“Let’s get going then.”

“Oh wow, we’re so high!” Mikoto said in awe. “And we’re only halfway up?”

“Yup.”

Emma couldn’t help but grin as Mikoto pressed her nose against the elevator window. There were faster ways of getting to the restaurant, but Emma had thought it appropriate, given the audience, to take the “scenic elevator”. It was something most people on Earth didn’t bother with, since they were used to the views already.

“The skyscrapers in Helsinberg never got this high,” said Mikoto. “I think the biggest is a hundred stories?”

“Yeah, we started on floor seven hundred-something,” said Emma. “We’ve been this high before when we visited the Art Museum though, remember?”

“Yeah but there wasn’t a view like this,” said Mikoto. “I can see the entire MSY Corridor from this angle!”

“Well, yes, to be fair, this view is pretty rare,” said Emma. “Most of the places in the city don’t get views quite this spectacular.”

“Really? That’s too bad.”

“Yeah, I know. Still, there’s a reason why this place is unusually costly to go to. That and the crazy way they prepare the food.”

“How much is it?”

“Ehhh, something like a hundred allocs a person,” said Emma.

Mikoto blinked, then gasped. “That’s, like, more than a thousand Samsaran credits!”

“Well, yes,” said Emma, shrugging. She reached out and tousled Mikoto’s hair as the younger girl stammered in shock. “But given that I currently have about a month’s backpay sitting in my account, I thought I’d treat you.”

“But you’ve already paid for everything I’ve been doing!”

“Sure, but we’ll be getting busy soon,” said Emma, sighing. “After you sign up for classes, you have to get your housing sorted, and not to mention I have my own classes I want to talk to the advisor about.”

“Oh,” said Mikoto. Her expression dimmed. “I forgot.”

“Well, we’ll try and make time,” said Emma soothingly. She patted Mikoto on the head again. “Don’t worry too much about it.”

Mikoto nodded. The elevator dinged.

“So what was your favorite part about the week?” Emma asked as they exited onto the wide patio that served as the restaurant’s entrance. The maitre’d’s podium, complete with holographic maitre’d in a tuxedo, was off to one side. The waiting area was a small fountain, surrounded by vegetable plants in actual soil imported from a biological preserve. Emma’s implants told her the plants were sweet pea and zucchini, growing along bamboo frames.

“Hmmm,” mused Mikoto as the maitre’d led them to a table for two, out on the deck that suspended them over open air. “I would definitely say the aquarium. We don’t have anything like that in Helsinberg, and it’s so expensive to go out to the coast for vacation.”

“Last night you said the magical opera was the best thing,” said Emma, grinning as Mikoto nodded.

“It was!”

“Then which was better, the aquarium or the opera? Or maybe the theater and its VR vids?”

Mikoto pouted. “Stop making fun of me!”

The restaurant’s existence, Emma decided, was purely because many people thought actually hand-grown vegetables were novel and interesting. The food was acceptable at best, despite the theatricality of a cook coming out to their table with a wheeled cooktop and harvesting their breakfast on the spot from a tray of plants growing in hydroponic jelly.

“So have you thought about your living arrangements?” Emma asked Mikoto.

Mikoto nodded and swallowed her mouthful of omelette. The eggs were also from actual hens, something that Emma found mildly disgusting, but which Mikoto assured was “perfectly normal, what are you talking about?”

“I think I’ll try living in a suite,” she said, cutting off another piece of omelette and speared it with her fork.

“What are you considering?”

“Well, there’s this one where it’s just a two bedroom with shared living space and kitchen,” said Mikoto. She popped the piece of omelette into her mouth and continued, “which is nice because you get your own room. But—”

“Swallow, Mikoto.”

Mikoto rolled her eyes at Emma and swallowed before continuing. “But the MSY says you should try living with more people, so I was thinking that maybe I should apply for a four-person?”

“What’s the four-person arrangement like?” asked Emma. The tomato was deeply colored, the vibrant red juice soaking into the crumbly filling as Emma sliced half of the tomato into smaller pieces.

“There’s two different kinds,” said Mikoto. “You can either have four people with four different rooms or have two to a room and only two bedrooms. The living room and kitchen are basically the same, from what I can tell.”

“Huh. That’s interesting. Which one do you have a preference for?”

Mikoto made an indecisive noise. “Well, I do like having my own room, but the pamphlet says that the two-to-a-room arrangement is cheaper, which is nice.”

“Well, it’s good to practice being thrifty,” said Emma. She scooped up a bite of tomato.

“You say while paying for breakfast,” said Mikoto, rolling her eyes again. “I can’t believe it costs that much.”

Emma rolled her eyes back at Mikoto and continued in telepathy as she chewed. “You’ve got plenty of allocs, of course, but it’s no good if you’re used to blowing it all the time.”

“Yeah, of course,” said Mikoto, setting her cutlery down to stare thoughtfully into space. “And I guess it would be nice to make friends.”

“Not to mention, training is done in two-a-room housing,” said Emma. She scooped up a second piece of tomato. “If you got used to it now, that’d be helpful later. Four people is also the standard squad size in combat, and it’d be really helpful to get used to that sort of relationship dynamic early.”

“Hmm,” murmured Mikoto. She ate another piece of omelette and chewed in contemplative silence. Emma took the opportunity to demolish the remainder of her tomato and trick herself into thinking her eggs, over medium, came from a synthesizer.

“I think I’ll go for the two-a-room arrangement,” said Mikoto eventually. “It sounds like it’d be useful. Thanks for the help.”

“No problem.”

Apart from the novelty, Kisetsu no Izakaya was also just a few blocks, and twelve levels above, MSY Careers and Education. Other buildings in the area included MSY Housing, the MSY’s War Memorial, and the Church of Hope, the last of which had a variety of multicolored tents in its gardens for some reason. The atrium window at MSY Careers and Education caught all of it within its view, making for a spectacular, if somewhat unsettling, sight as Emma sipped the complimentary coffee.

It was surreal, standing here, after everything that had happened on Samsara. She kept expecting the sound of rain hitting windows, or an explosion to shake the floor. She found herself instinctively scanning the buildings for snipers, or places to put snipers. But instead, the mid-morning sun glinted off of polyglas and metal, harmless beams bouncing and scattering through the air. The air was cool and refined, the floors polished and clean, and the people around her stressed only if they chose to be.

Hers and Mikoto’s appointment came up. They were ushered through a series of hallways to one of the many academic advisors the MSY had on staff. MSY Careers and Education had started long, long ago, when the MSY had finally started being more than just some girls banding together for mutual support. Now it was its own entire bureaucracy, and had the staffing to match.

The advisor they spoke to was named Kim Young-mi. An older magical girl, she wore a pair of wire rimmed glasses and had her hair tied in a severe-looking bun. Being part of MSY Careers and Education exempted her, technically, from combat, but according to Emma’s surreptitious look-up, Young-mi had also been part of the earliest fighting against the squid. Impressive.

“Given the current situation, it’s recommended that you go through the pre-war training sequence,” Young-mi told Mikoto. “The focus is on demon hunting and power development, as well as basic self-repair and soul gem management. The purpose of the course is to allow you to slot well into a demon hunting team on a long term basis. Information important for combat will be covered in your basic training, after you turn thirteen.”

“Okay,” said Mikoto. “But, what if I’ve been on a few demon hunts already?”

“Then you’ll have a small advantage in the class,” said Young-mi, shrugging. “Most girls who manage to contract in the middle of combat, if they survive, end up in a similar situation. You should still take the coursework in order to formalize what you already know and fill in any gaps you didn’t know you needed filled. If it really is mostly just a rehash of things you already know, then you can also work with tutors on specific gaps and get course completion credit.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“This aside, you should also be thinking about specialized coursework,” continued Young-mi. “As a summoner, you have many future options for growth and development. I have sent you a list of possible specializations within your magical girl class.”

Mikoto nodded. “Can I work on my, um, civilian coursework while attending magic classes? I was studying graphic design before I contracted and I’d like to continue doing so.”

“It’s possible, but requires discipline,” said Young-mi. “It is also debatably useful for you. As a magical girl, your conscription lasts thirty years. Many girls are able to maintain their pre-contract interests, but just as many drift away.”

“What are your, um, personal opinions?”

“Well, speaking strictly off the record,” said Young-mi as she took off her glasses. “Due to our immortality, my view is that we have plenty of time to further our mundane education later, but only so long as we survive combat. Personally, I would focus on magical studies first, get through my conscription, and then return to civilian pursuits.”

She put her glasses back on and leaned back in her chair. “Of course, it’s all up to you in the end.”

Mikoto bit her lip indecisively for a moment, then nodded. “Alright. I think I’ll start that basic training you mentioned, and see how that goes for now?”

Young-mi nodded. “We’ll have your information processed and class assignment ready in a day or two. You’ll be jumping in a few weeks into the trimester, but you should be up to speed relatively quickly. A lot of the beginning of class is getting a grasp of your instincts, and if you were part of the garrison at Samsara you’ll have at least some of that already. Sound good?”

“Yes!”

“As for you, Miss Sinclair,” said the Advisor. “Your situation is also fairly common. A lot of veterans in your position focus on extending their understanding of topics related to their powers, but for you specifically I would recommend looking into broadening your skillset.”

“Er, okay,” said Emma. “Why?”

“In general, the MSY likes their magical girls to have a certain amount of breadth,” said Young-mi. “Your combat experiences have forced you to focus on high damage throughput, which is fine in the short run. However, your career will be better served if you can learn some more rudimentary skills, as a jumping point for later development. And of course, there’s plenty to learn in terms of combat specializations.”

“Ah, okay,” said Emma, nodding. It made sense. “How should I select my classes?”

“Well, it’s generally considered a good idea to begin by following a curriculum slanted towards a certain career track,” said Young-mi. “I’ve forwarded you a list of tracks the MSY’s servers think make sense for you. You could also do a more generalized survey curriculum, which is useful for getting a feel of what’s available. If you don’t really have any idea what you want to do in the future, that would be your best option. For all the options, however, you’ll want to take several course on the sorts of physics which compliment your powers. I’ve taken the liberty of forwarding a list of those to you as well.”

Emma nodded. “Alright, that sounds good.”

“Are there any other questions I can answer for you two?” asked Young-mi. Emma and Mikoto shook their heads. “Very good. In the future, if you have any questions, you can contact myself directly, or any of the other advisors here in MSY Careers and Education.”

MSY Housing was a few levels down and got Mikoto’s housing application sorted relatively quickly. The Church of Hope was the other housing option in Mitakihara, as a matter of course, and the rooms there were open to secular girls just as much as they were to the religious. They were, however, still affiliated with the Cult, and Mikoto was leery of associating herself with anything religious. It was what it was, Emma supposed, though she’d have preferred it if Mikoto were to live on Church premises.

MSY Housing was more general, servicing the whole of Mitakihara City, as well as cross-service with Kasamino, Sendai, and the like. There were a few different ways of going about applying for housing, but ultimately Mikoto had decided to wait until she got a roommate match and move into whatever was available. She’d also decided to narrow the field to like-powers only on the salesperson’s suggestion, the hope being that she could collaborate with others with similar power-sets.

“Well, with that taken care of, do you want lunch first, or shopping?” asked Emma as they headed for the elevators. “We’ve got the rest of the day open either way, although we need to be back in time for dinner.”

“I think lunch,” said Mikoto, arms behind her back contemplatively. “I don’t feel like shopping right now.”

“Any preferences?” asked Emma.

“Not really.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, fair enough then.”

Emma keyed the elevator and pulled up a list of nearby food options. It was a fairly typical list for Mitakihara: various multi-cultural places that fused everything into a flavorful mishmash, mixed with just as many hyper-traditional restaurants that frowned at you for not wearing a kimono to dinner. A few were flagged as being “magical girl friendly”, something that Emma found vaguely demeaning. It wasn’t as if her gem was going to go critical because she had some bad takoyaki or something.

There was one thing that caught her eye though.

“Say, it turns out the Church of Hope is holding some sort of festival,” said Emma as their elevator arrived. “You want to check it out?”

Mikoto gave her a dubious look as they stepped into the elevator. “Like, a religious thing?”

“I don’t think so,” said Emma. She checked her calendar. “Yeah, no, there’s no special events today. Besides, I promised you I wouldn’t try and convert you.”

“Well, fair enough I guess,” said Mikoto, still giving Emma a mildly suspicious eye. “They have food there?”

“Apparently,” said Emma, shrugging. “Probably just a bunch of stuff you can eat off a stick, but you never know.”

“I guess,” said Mikoto. “Well, if you promise it’s not a religious thing—”

“Seriously Mikoto, I swear—”

“—then I guess we can check it out,” said Mikoto. “But if someone tries to like, tell me about my lady and saviour, I’m getting the hell out.”

Emma held back a laugh. “Yeah, fair enough.”

“Okay, I have no idea how they managed to pull this off,” said Mikoto later, “but I’m not going to question it because it’s fucking delicious.”

“Don’t swear,” said Emma, swatting Mikoto gently as they both tucked into what could only be described as the unholy love child of a sushi bar and a tempura stall. They each had a tower of tempura, served over wide bowls of sushi rice and slices of sashimi, then drizzled with some sort of soy-sauce based condiment.

Mikoto stuck her tongue out at Emma and bit into a piece of tempura shrimp. “You swear constantly though.”

“Eat your food,” Emma replied, poking Mikoto in the side and drawing a squeal from the younger girl. “Heh.”

“Meanie,” Mikoto pouted, before returning to her food.

The festival was apparently a secular event that the Church did entirely for PR. It was a big annual production, intended to make them seem accessible and not crazy. Unfortunately, the choice this year to have the volunteers and staff dress in shrine-maiden robes had something of the opposite effect. Mikoto had nearly turned away at the gates before the magical girl on duty had assured them that it was just a bit of tongue-in-cheek humor, and no they weren’t going to try and brainwash everyone into praising the Goddess.

Emma had been tempted to say a grandiose prayer over their lunches as a result, but decided not to push her luck.

“I can’t believe that yakisoba-baguettes exist though,” said Mikoto, now progressing onto the sashimi. “Like, really? Who thought that was a good idea?”

“Well judging by the line, a lot of people,” said Emma. She gave the stall in question a considering look. “Do you think it’s worth the line?”

“Ew, no,” said Mikoto, scrunching her nose at the thought. “Just… ew. So much ew.”

“Heh, fair enough,” said Emma. She crunched into a mushroom. “So, the two-person rooms come with a bed already, so we don’t have to buy that for you. What about—”

“Nyehhh, let’s just go shopping tomorrow,” said Mikoto, waving her hand dismissively. “Can we stay and see more things in the festival instead?”

Emma raised an eyebrow.

“You’re not afraid of someone trying to convert you?”

“Well…” said Mikoto, looking awkward. “I mean, yes, but there’s that stall over there selling hand-made mochi, and there’s going to be an archery competition later too that I want to watch, and there’s also that weird competitive juggling thing that I want to try, so could we stay for awhile please?”

Mikoto gave Emma her best doe eyes.

“…Fine, we’ll stay,” sighed Emma. She rolled her eyes as Mikoto squealed and crushed Emma in an over-enthusiastic hug. “But we have to leave in time to meet my parents for dinner, so choose wisely, okay?”

“Yeah, no problem!” said Mikoto excitedly. She began scarfing down her lunch and switched over to telepathy. “I wanna try and catch one of those bee drones, it shouldn’t be too hard since I’m a magical girl right?”

“Whoa, slow down,” said Emma, putting a restraining hand on Mikoto’s shoulder. “Look, yes, it’ll be a bit of fun, and probably not too challenging, but we do still have six hours. Relax.”

“But Emma—!”

“Yes, I know, but still, six hours, Mikoto.”

“But—!”

“Six hours.”

“Fine,” sighed Mikoto dramatically, eating her food at a normal pace again. “Jeez, you’re no fun.”

It turned out that the bee drones were actually ladybugs. Very fast ladybugs that flew just out of easy jumping height, making you try and think of something clever to reach them. Of course, Emma was part of the group of girls who either had a powerset that made this sort of thing easy, or were old enough to know a few tricks. It was, however, prime entertainment for the spectators, and Emma had enough blackmail stills of Mikoto to last decades.

“Excuse me miss, but could I interest you in a pamphlet about the Cult?”

Emma turned as a shrine maiden, looking somewhat embarrassed, offered a digital pamphlet.

“Ah, sorry, I’m actually already part of the Cult,” said Emma, smiling at the shrine maiden. Her name, it seemed, was Lin Ogino. “Thank you though.”

“Oh, thank the Goddess,” said Lin, looking very relieved. “I was afraid I would have to make the speech.”

“Heh, not much for formal speaking?”

“No, not at all,” said Lin. “I’d rather work quietly in the chapel, but Kyouko personally pushed me out the door. She said I should um, make some more friends, or something.”

Emma chuckled. “Well, that’s a pretty big push. Do you work here?”

“Yes! Well, volunteering, but same difference.”

“Ah. I was wondering, could you tell me about some of the services you guys have here?”

“Oh, of course! The most important are Kyouko’s sermons, of course, and are every Friday afternoon at one o’clock. You can always watch a recording when convenient for you.”

Emma nodded, making a note on her calendar to visit the upcoming Friday if she could manage it.

“Then there’s the counseling and teaching staff who lead theological studies,” continued Lin. “They’re really great if you want to learn more details about the Goddess. It’s all based off of visions and what Homura left behind before she disappeared, which you can read about in the Church Archives. We also have a really big secular library, though that’s just sort of there. The Church also serves as a sort of military base, so there’s plenty of facilities for practice. We also have rooms in the Church Dormitories available for rent, if you want to live here.”

“Heh, like a nunnery then?” asked Emma.

“Not at all,” said Lin, going a little red. “The uh… well, let’s just say the rumor mill here is very much in operation.”

Emma blinked, then laughed awkwardly. “Ah, I uh, I see. A-anyway…”

“Yes, anyway,” said Lin, hurrying along. “Um, the last thing I should mention is the Ribbon. It’s sort of controversial, so I always save it for last, but it’s the source of all the visions, and there’s always a huge line to get in to see it. According to Homura, the Ribbon was a personal gift from the Goddess. If you believe the stories, of course, which you might not.”

Emma raised an eyebrow. “Is that a common thing, among members of the Cult?”

“Well, no,” granted Lin. “But well, you’re new, and um, I guess it’s part of the standard spiel?”

“Er, alright, fair enough.”

“Anyway, since you’re already a member, I’d recommend giving the Ribbon a visit before you leave today,” said Lin, smiling again. “Even if it doesn’t grant you a vision, and the vast, vast majority of girls just see a piece of cloth, to be clear, it’s still a big deal.”

Emma checked her chronometer. “How long’s the wait?”

“Er, something like an hour I think, last I checked.”

“I better get going then,” said Emma. “Thanks for the help, Lin.”

“No problem, it was my pleasure!” said Lin with a smile. She immediately frowned again. “But now I have to go talk to more people…”

“Eh, you’ll be fine,” said Emma, giving Lin an encouraging slap on the shoulder. The other magical girl smiled and nodded.

“Thanks,” she said, before wandering off in search of someone else to proselytize to. Emma turned back to the bug-catching game and found that Mikoto had disappeared.

“Hey, Mikoto, where’d you go?” asked Emma over telepathy.

“Ah, I made some new friends and we’re playing a game,” said Mikoto, her telepathy hurried. “It’s kind of difficult.”

“Cool, you going to be okay on your own then?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I’m going to go be crazy and religious, unless you want to come with?”

“Ew, no. See ya.”

Emma snorted. Kids. “Yeah, see ya.”


	2. Unexpected Happenstance

Standing in the Hall of the Ribbon was like standing inside of a dream. Stained glass stretched up, up, high over head in great panels of red and blue and green and yellow and every other color in between. The bright light of the high, noontime sun blazed through the panes of glass, bouncing off the polished marble floors and onto glittering white limestone walls, then reflecting back up again into the far-away ceiling and its innumerable stars.

On the right, magical girls stretched out hands and weapons and magic, stepping forward to push back demons and scatter darkness. Some stood proud and strong, fighting back to back, heedless of danger, or perhaps accepting it, as part of their lives. Others healed the wounded, the ones that had suffered too grievous an injury, but were determined to fight alongside their sisters in arms. Along the bottom, the youngest girls cast spells and gathered grief cubes, shielded by their elders but doing their best to help.

On the left, magical girls fell to their own darkness, corruption consuming some and others falling with gems shattered. Each shimmering gem fragment glittered in a frozen moment of time, suspended forever until the end of time. Still others lay to the side, bleeding, eyes pained and in agony, as their gems blackened and they awaited death. Along the bottom, the youngest girls wept bitterly in sorrow, unable to help their elders, bereft of grief cubes, and awaiting their own demise as the cold hand of death tightened around them.

“Oi, the line’s moving.”

Emma snapped out of her daze and muttered an apology, hurrying forward to bridge the gap she’d let appear. The stained glass on the left was haunting and gave her the shivers. She turned away, looking up at the glass on the right again. One of the girls was using a halberd, just like Emma. She was hooking a demon through the chest, pulling it down for the others in her team to bombard with arrows of gleaming, multicolored light.

Maybe she could…

Emma coughed and rubbed at her eyes. Whoever had designed the hall was very good at their job. It was doing a remarkably good job at reminding her just what she was visiting.

“Is this your first time here?” asked the girl behind Emma.

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” said Emma, turning. The girl’s name was Eliana Cruz and spoke modern Japanese with a Latin American accent.

“I can tell,” said Eliana, nodding to herself. She looked mostly Japanese but had something Latin American about her facial and hip structure. “New contractee right? You all have the same look about you when you walk in here.”

“Actually, I contracted about a month ago.”

“Eh, same difference,” said Eliana with a shrug. “You fight in Samsara then?”

“Yeah.”

“Tough go of it, that fight.”

“It was.”

“You get anything out of it?”

“Er,” said Emma, taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“Medals, a promotion?”

“Oh, yes, I did,” said Emma. “I got promoted and was given a few medals.”

“Huh, I see,” said Eliana, nodding again. “Good. Congrats.”

“Thank you.”

They dropped into silence, Emma not entirely sure what has just transpired. But Eliana had been nice enough, she supposed. There was no harm in idle conversation while they waited, though of course now they were silent. Emma found herself looking up at the stained glass again,

“Y’know a friend of mine worked on those,” said Eliana. “The girl over there, with the spear? She made that one.”

“Don’t they have a synth for this sort of thing?”

“Nah, all this is hand-made artisanal,” said Eliana. “Besides, s’not like making the thing’s the only part of the job. My girlie worked on design and stuff too.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize,” said Emma as they shuffled forward again. “It’s very nice work. She’s very talented, your friend.”

“Ah, thanks,” said Eliana. She wiped an eye. “Yeah, she was pretty good.”

Emma paused, then blanched. “Oh, um, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Nah, nah, it’s nothing,” said Eliana. “She’s been dead for ages now. I visit sometimes to see her work again is all. And y’never know, maybe the Ribbon’ll do something interesting for once.”

“I hear visions are pretty rare?”

“I’ve never witnessed someone having a vision,” said Eliana, nodding. “Never had one either. It is what it is, I figure.”

They lapsed into silence again. The line moved slowly, edging forward over the next half hour, until Emma and Eliana stood under the entwined wings of Homura. On their right, Homura gazed serenely up to the heavens, wings radiant white and surrounded by a purple corona. On their left, Homura gazed crazily up to the heavens, wings rippling black and surrounded by oozing black corruption. Between the two, the mist-enshrouded form of the Goddess reached down, all embracing, and at the base of it all, a gate in gold filigree, protected by a shimmering forcefield and two guards. Both were magical girls, standing at attention and in costume, staring stiffly out at the line.

“No more than three at a time, please,” said the guard on the right.

Emma and Eliana looked behind them to the next girl.

“You want to come with then?”

“Sure,” said the girl, shrugging.

Through the forcefield, the previous party departed.

“Please transform before entering,” said the guard on the left.

Emma, Eliana, and the random girl they’d just met transformed in a burst of blue and yellow and red.

“Heterochromatic costume,” said Eliana as she looked over Emma’s red-dyed robes. “Interesting.”

“You may pass,” intoned both guards. They gestured at the entry way.

The Ribbon was the epitome of anticlimax. Small, red, and draped carefully on a cushion, it was no different from the hair ribbons Anna had wore once when they were kids. A bit silkier, perhaps, but Emma couldn’t say for sure unless she touched it, which of course was impossible due to the nuclear-explosion-proofed glass it was housed behind.

“How does this work?” Emma asked Eliana quickly.

“Usually, people kneel and pray,” said Eliana. “Just imitate random chick over there.”

Emma looked over at the other girl. She had knelt down, clasping her hands tightly in front of her as she whispered something in Latin.

“Uh, okay,” said Emma. She put one knee on the ground, then—

—felt the ground drop out from under her, falling down, down, down, until she found herself on her hands and knees, somehow, in a bell tower. High up above, birds flitted through the rafters. The sunset was streaming in from the west-side opening, glinting off of the giant, brass bells and partially illuminating the stone walls. The shadow of two girls stretched across the floor.

“Now, that’s not the Sayaka-chan I know,” one of them was saying reprovingly. “Aren’t you supposed to be a Hero of Justice? The magical girl who would never give up?”

“Tch, some Hero I am,” said the other girl, presumably Sayaka. “I didn’t even manage to do anything before I died.”

“It’s not how much you did that matters,” said the first. “All that matters is that you stood up and tried your hardest to make it real.”

Emma flinched as the first girl, her hair pink but her eyes shining gold, turned and looked directly at Emma.

“Isn’t that right, Emma?”

“Who’re you talking to— oh,” said the second girl. Her hair was blue, and she had a music note hairpin. “Who’s she?”

“This is Emma Sinclair,” said Pink and Gold Eyes. “She’s just a friend of mine. Why don’t you join us for ice cream, Emma?”

Emma nodded mutely, getting to her feet and walking over. Pink Hair scooted over, given Emma a space to sit.

“Here you go,” said Pink Hair, handing Emma an ice cream cone.

“How do you know my name?” asked Emma.

“Silly Emma, of course I know your name!” said Pink Hair. “It’s me, Madoka, don’t you remember?”

Emma blinked, and remembered swimming, and a beach, and a movie of her life.

“I—”

“Neh, Madoka, I thought you said you two were friends?” said Sayaka, leaning forward to give Madoka a questioning look. “How’s she not remember your name?”

“Oh, timey-wimey stuff,” said the Goddess, waving her hand dismissively. “Like I told you already, time’s not linear here.”

Sayaka harumphed something unintelligible and licked her ice cream.

“So, how are things?” Madoka asked Emma. “Did the fighting go okay?”

“U-um, yes,” stammered Emma. “I um, I got back to the line. Things w-were dicey for a bit, but the Fleet came through in the end.”

“Oh, good,” said Madoka, smiling happily as she licked her ice cream again. “I knew that was a good idea.”

Emma nodded wordlessly and, with nothing better to do, licked her ice cream. It was delicious.

“Anyway, like I was saying earlier, Sayaka-chan, it’s not what you actually did that counts,” said Madoka. “It’s that you did your very best to make it happen, even if you didn’t succeed. Emma can tell you!”

“I can?” asked Emma.

“Of course,” said Madoka. “You’re a soldier, after all.”

Sayaka choked on her ice cream.

“Wait, what?” asked Sayaka aghast. “There’s a future where magical girls fight a war?”

“Oh there is,” said Madoka, her mood dimming considerably. “A lot of magical girls die.”

“A lot more regular people die too,” said Emma. She turned to Sayaka. “We’re the only thing preventing humanity from getting wiped out. Us, and the occasional wish.”

“So what, you’re being invaded by aliens or something?”

“Yes.”

“Wha— bullshit.”

“Nope,” said Emma quietly. She licked her ice cream. “Alien invasion, with laser guns and everything.”

“But, sending in magical girls?” asked Sayaka, still stunned. “I mean, most of us are like what, twelve?”

“Well, the median contracting age has gone up a little,” said Emma, smiling a little. She was feeling very relaxed, for some reason. The ice cream was probably drugged. “But yeah, that happened at the very beginning, when it was just magical girls versus aliens. I heard an eight-year old saved an entire colony once.”

Sayaka looked ill.

“I guess Madoka’s right,” said Emma contemplatively. “Thinking about it, it’s not like any one of us could end the war. There’s not a magical girl in all of human space that can just snap her fingers and wipe out the squid. It’s all of us, a little bit at a time, doing our best to keep the squid away just a little longer.”

“S-squid?”

“The alien invaders,” said Madoka. “They’re all tentacle-y.”

“Eurgh.”

“You get used to it,” said Emma with a shrug. She licked her ice cream again, and contemplated biting into it to save time. It really was very good. “You know, just keep track of the tentacles, make sure to cut them off if you can. But they’re tricky bastards, those tentacles. They’ll try and trip you if you’re not careful.”

“Jeez,” said Sayaka, looking down at her toes. “And I thought I had it bad.”

“Different time periods,” said Madoka. “Don’t go comparing yourself to Emma, just like you can’t compare yourself to someone from 1st Century China.”

“That’s true,” said Sayaka. She smiled sadly. “Still, I could have done at least a little better.”

Emma shrugged. “Maybe. But you’re dead now right?”

“Er, yeah.”

“The way I see it, as long as you put up a reasonable fight, there’s nothing anyone can fault you for once you’re dead,” said Emma. She laughed quietly at herself and sighed. “I have the record for most number of deaths in simulation, you know. If I thought like you do all the time, I’d have faded, like, weeks ago.”

Sayaka frowned at her toes contemplatively. “I… I guess.”

Emma bit into her ice cream, letting the creamy sweetness slide deliciously across her tongue. Goddess, this was amazing stuff. She closed her eyes to savor the flavor.

“You need to make sure you follow your own advice, you know,” said the Goddess.

Emma flinched, dropping her ice cream off the bell tower, and whirled on the spot. She caught a flash of white skirts before dropping to her knees.

“My Goddess,” she said, not looking up. It seemed disrespectful, somehow. White-shoed feet stepped into Emma’s field of view, before a gloved hand lifted Emma’s face up to meet the Goddess’ eyes directly.

“No need for that,” said the Goddess. “I’m still human enough to be bothered by formality.”

“Y-yes, my lady,” said Emma, coming up with the title on the spot. “I— it’s an honor.”

“The pleasure is mine,” said the Goddess. She turned and began walking into a garden. “Walk with me. Let us talk awhile.”

“Y-yes, of course.”

“Did you enjoy your time with myself?” asked the Goddess. “If I recall correctly, you should have just had ice cream with me and Sayaka-chan on the bell-tower?”

“I did, yes. It was very good ice cream.”

“Nagisa-chan knows what she’s doing,” said the Goddess, nodding. “You’ll forgive me, I hope, for using a bit of magic on you for that conversation. The visions can be disorientating, and I thought you might like the experience better if you were relaxed.”

“Oh, er, it’s fine,” said Emma awkwardly. “I mean, it was nice meeting Sayaka again, even if the first time I was technically dying.”

“Ah, yes, I did restore those memories didn’t I?” said the Goddess. She sighed. “A shame I have to wipe them again.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry, but you’ll have to trust me on this one,” said the Goddess. “It’s important that you don’t remember this, or any other, vision clearly.”

Emma blinked in confusion. “But— well, er, I… I guess? Why’s that?”

“There are a few reasons,” said the Goddess. She paused, and gave Emma an apologetic pat on the shoulder. “I really am very sorry, but I can’t be more specific than that.”

Emma nodded. “That’s fair, I suppose.”

“I apologize ahead of time as well,” said the Goddess. “You’ll go through a lot of trouble because of my interference today. I hope you’ll not hold it against me.”

“Never, m’lady,” said Emma immediately. “I’m— that’s impossible. I could never hold anything against you.”

The Goddess smiled sadly at Emma and said nothing.

“No doubt you’re wondering why you’re here,” she said, changing the subject abruptly. They stopped in front of a rose bush.

“Er, it had crossed my mind, yes,” said Emma, rubbing an arm. “It’s an honor, of course, but my impression was that you didn’t do this for everyone?”

“No, I don’t,” said the Goddess. “You’re here because… well, I suppose it’s because I think you deserved a little celestial encouragement. Even without my interference, your life has been getting very complicated, hasn’t it?”

Emma nodded, thinking about Ayane and Ryouta, and about everything involving her family’s business.

“I just wanted to say that I believe in you,” said the Goddess. She plucked a rose, holding it carefully between the thorns. “You’re a strong girl. You’ll make it through.”

“Ah, well, thank you,” said Emma, blushing.

“But that doesn’t mean it will be easy for you,” said the Goddess. “The times ahead will be difficult. You will have to decide, Emma, who you want to be.”

The Goddess gestured behind Emma. “Who will you choose to be?” the Goddess asked. “The Right Hand, or the Left Hand?”

Emma turned, then stepped backwards in alarm. Two versions of herself had appeared, one on her right and one on her left. They both stood looking at her, corruption swirling in their gems, each just on the brink of despair.

The Right Hand was Emma, but older, colder, costume torn and stained with blood. She fixed Emma with a stare that had seen too many friends die, who had almost forgotten why she was fighting. Emma, but alone, fighting an endless battle that had no end, dying one day somewhere, lost, hoping beyond hope that it had all been worth it, regretting that she hadn’t had the happiness that she had defended to her last breath.

The Left Hand was Emma, but older, colder, costume smooth and unruffled. She fixed Emma with a stare that had seen too many dreams unfulfilled, who lived each day with regret and anguish. Emma, with her family and her friends, helping, but not really, through the power of the Shizuki Matriarchy, dying one day in a hotel room, hoping beyond hope that it had been meaningful, regretting that her part had only been small, and, perhaps, that she could have done more.

Emma felt herself start crying. “W-what is this?”

“This is the fork in the road,” said the Goddess. “But don’t be afraid. This fork has more than one path.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean exactly that,” said the Goddess cryptically, placing her hands on Emma’s shoulder. “You have a lot of choice to make, Emma. They will be hard choices, but they will be yours to make. What you have to understand is that in order to fulfill your wish,—”

Emma pressed herself backwards against the Goddess as the Right Hand held out one of her bloodied hands. The Goddess was unyielding.

“—in order to make the best of the opportunity given you by your contract—”

The Left Hand reached out as well. Both of them grasped one of Emma’s hands in theirs. The Right Hand was icy cold and slippery with blood, but tightened like a vice. The Left Hand was fiery hot and dry, rasping against her, but held on just as tightly.

“—you have to use both hands.”

The world exploded in white. The hands holding onto Emma’s were unyielding, even as she felt herself begin to fall.

“I won’t lie to you,” said the Goddess’ disembodied voice. “There’s a hundred other magical girls I could talk to. Anybody in that line, I could have decided to grant a vision. But I think, in the end, I wasn’t wrong. You’re the person who needed to hear this.”

“What do you mean?!” Emma shouted. Her right arm was going numb with cold, her left burning so hot she was losing feeling as well.

“That’s a question you’ll have to answer for me,” said the Goddess. “One day, you’ll come back to the Ribbon and tell me why you were special, when you weren’t special at all.”

“I—!”

“But, unfortunately, this is where this particular vision ends. So good luck.”

“Wha— but—!”

“The only thing you’ll remember is this last bit,” said Madoka. “And even then, only bits and pieces. But it’ll be enough, I think.”

“Wait—!!”

The marble floor of the Ribbon Hall appeared below, and Emma felt herself hit the ground with a dull thud.


	3. Longwinded Discussion

The Theological Council’s meeting chamber was darkly lit and paneled with dark colored wood. It was relatively small, about the size of a large dining room if you had the allocs for something of that nature. Emma sat with her back facing the entrance on the flat side of a half-moon shaped table. A dozen other magical girls lined the curved side, mostly as holograms. Kyouko Sakura, the Cult’s leader, was the only exception.

“Both hands, hm?” said one Mina Montalcini. She leaned back in her seat, a glass of water appearing in frame. “And she didn’t say anything else in relation to these two… versions of you?”

“Not that I can remember,” said Emma. “It’s… it’s hazy, like a dream.”

“That’s very typical,” said Kyouko. She tapped a finger idly against the rim of her water glass. “There have only been a few cases where the recipient of the vision has had a very clear memory of what transpired.”

“Even then, there are difficulties,” said Yui Tanaka, apparently one of the MSY’s founders. “Contemporary accounts are often kept private, at the Goddess’s request, and historical accounts are…”

“This body is well aware of the limitations I have,” said Clarisse van Rossum. She sighed long-sufferingly, then turned to Emma. “Suffice to say, the magical girls of the ancient past would not appreciate their private lives detailed, except in extraordinary circumstances.”

“In any case,” said Augustine Francois, with the air of stalling a longstanding disagreement. “In your case, Ms. Sinclair, do not be overly alarmed. The dream-like memories you have are common, and the ominous portents similarly so. What matters, as the Goddess was kind to emphasize, is what you do about this vision.”

“Two versions of the same girl, presumably from the distant future, has strong symbolic value,” said an unusually young girl named Feng Quan. “Though conversely, the Goddess rarely uses such things to make a point.”

“Still, the symbolism cannot be ignored,” said Yui. “It is perhaps not intended to be the driver of our understanding, but instead to be a framework.”

“That is consistent with a few other visions, yes.”

“Both hands though… and they grasped Emma’s hands directly didn’t they?”

“Ah, hold on, that has importance,” said a girl who had looked bored up until now. “Ms. Sinclair, which hands did they grasp? Do you recall in detail?”

“Um, the one on my right held my right hand, and the one on my left held my left hand,” said Emma.

“Both hands…” murmured Feng Quan. “Both hands.”

“It makes sense,” said Yui. She pulled something up on her personal interface. “Ms. Sinclair, I understand you recently visited MSY Careers and Education?”

“Yes.”

“I have your personal file here, which details the career tracks MSY Careers thinks you would be best suited for. Have you had a chance to look at these yourself?”

“Ah, I was going to do so later tonight,” said Emma.

“Do you mind if we discuss your career options, briefly?”

Emma blinked and shrugged awkwardly. “Um, sure, go ahead.”

“Thank you. Now taking a look here, you have a lot of options going into combat roles… ah, you’ve been flagged as having potential for MagOps training… yes, and also the Air Assault divisions, of course… it makes sense…”

“Ahem, Yui, I understand you’re very busy,” said Kyouko sarcastically. “But if you don’t mind, could you enlighten the Council on your latest great discovery?”

“Right, well, consider the aspect which grasped Ms. Sinclair’s right hand,” said Yui, coughing slightly. “Warlike, yes? Bloodied and battered, clearly a fighter. The majority of Ms. Sinclair’s career options, at least the ones MSY Careers suggests, are combat based. It would make sense that this version of Ms. Sinclair would be the one who follows the path of war.”

“And the other?” asked Mina.

“Well, we are surely familiar by now of the situation with the Shizuki Matriarchy,” said Yui. “If nothing else, Aina’s complaining has been loud and vociferous.”

“No offense meant to you, Ms. Sinclair,” said Aina Shizuki, who had the grace to look embarrassed. “I have never had a stomach for politics, as I’m sure you empathize with.”

Emma nodded. “But… what does that have to do with me?”

“As elder magical girls, it is considered our duty to give younger generations advice,” said Yui Tanaka. “Therefore—”

“If I may, Yui,” interrupted Mina. “Perhaps, if you have special advice for Ms. Sinclair, you should speak to her privately? Let us keep Theological Council meetings restricted to theology.”

Yui frowned, but nodded. “That is fair.”

“I think, however, that Ms. Tanaka does make an interesting point,” spoke up Qin Yang, one of the other girls who had been silent so far. “The fact that Ms. Sinclair saw what she did seems to indicate the vision is more personal in nature. The specific interpretation is, in most cases, left to the recipient of the vision.”

“I agree,” said another. “If members of this council wish to, they can contact Ms. Sinclair directly with their own advice and opinions.”

“Very well,” said Kyouko, before anyone could say anything else, “then let’s close out this meeting here. We’ll leave you to think about your vision, Emma Sinclair, with the caveat that if you wish to talk to any of us, we are available for your consultation.”

“I, um, thank you,” said Emma, blinking. That was it?

Kyouko nodded.

“Alright, then I call this meeting adjourned.”

Emma let Mikoto run around the fair for a few more hours before collecting her to go to dinner. The intervening time was spent carefully nursing several Manhattan cocktails in the Church’s Refectory,

La Mer Généreuse had a thing for the twentieth century, seafood, and cuisine classique. According to Infopedia and a variety of cooking blogs, it didn’t really do anything particularly authentique to the term, but, despite that, the food was good, so neither Emma nor Anna had any real complaints. Catherine had a taste for wine that matched the resident sommelier’s, and James enjoyed the atmosphere. The restaurant was decorated in the Art Nouveau style and typically had a performer singing very old songs on stage, accompanied by a band of some nature.

Emma was slowly making her way through a dish called “Cadgeree de Saumon”. With nothing better to do, she had decided to look up the dish in question, as it was apparently something very traditional. Whatever it was she was eating contained a fillet of salmon, seared on one side but essentially raw on the other, set atop a pillow of creamy risotto. The appropriate presentation apparently required the fish be fully cooked, then served with a bed of rice pilaf and some hard boiled eggs. Personally, Emma found it perfectly reasonable.

She glanced up at the stage as a ripple of applause worked through the dimly lit dining room. A new performer was taking the stage. A woman, dressed in a dark burgundy dress and string of pearls around her neck.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen,” she said, batting her eyelashes as she took up the old-fashioned microphone. “Welcome to La Mer Généreuse. This is Luke Yokohama—” she gestured at the tuxedo-clad man at the piano, who waved “—my brother and the best pianist I know. Seated below is the band, led by the estimable Audrey Hanson. They’ve been here all night so far, let’s give them a round of applause—” the singer led the crowd briefly in applauding the band sitting in the pit. Their director, presumably Audrey Hanson, waved and bowed “—for their efforts this evening. And lastly, my name is Rochelle Yokohama—” another pause, for further clapping “—and we will be your entertainment for the evening. Audrey, if you would?”

The band began to play. Her implants dutifully informed her that the song was “La Vie en Rose”.

“Emma?”

“Hm?” asked Emma, turning from the stage.

“You’ve been very quiet,” said Catherine. She gestured at Emma’s plate. “And you’ve been eating very slowly. Is everything alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” said Emma. She cut off a section of salmon, making sure to pause and speak aloud. “Just thinking.”

“What about?”

Emma began to speak in telepathy, before swallowing quickly to answer her mother. “Oh, well, I’ve been looking into career options is all. Mikoto and I went to MSY Careers and Education, and the advisor gave me a list to look at.”

“What’re you looking into?” asked James. “Anything interesting?”

“Well, er, some,” said Emma. “It doesn’t seem that the MSY thinks I’ll do well in administration.”

“Ah, that’s too bad,” said James. “Then again, Administration can be very… what’s the word?”

“Convoluted?” suggested Anna.

“Yes, that’s a good way to put it,” said James. “Convoluted as hell. Not something you’d necessarily enjoy.”

“No, probably not,” said Emma, nodding as she poked the tines of her fork into the risotto on her plate. “It’s something I’d like to avoid.”

“Speaking of administration,” said Anna. “Did I ever tell you guys about what happened today at work?”

“Is this the thing with the Yamamoto boy?” asked Catherine.

“No, but that was stupid too. What happened was…”

Emma made sure to pretend to pay attention this time as Anna detailed some incident that had occurred at her internship.

“You bored?” Emma asked Mikoto telepathically. “This stuff can get kind of dry.”

“Eh, it’s interesting enough,” said Mikoto. She had ordered Sole a la Hollandaise, something which was legitimately impossible to screw up, and was contemplating her butter. “Do you think I should pour this on?”

Emma shrugged and toyed with her salmon. Personally she would dip, but she couldn’t be bothered to express the opinion as Mikoto poured the butter onto the fish. Out of the corner of her eye, Emma spotted a passing waiter wince.

Another flake of salmon fell prey to Emma’s fork, which she speared and dragged through the risotto with her right hand. Her left hand flicked the blade of her knife to coat the piece of fish with a smear of risotto, before she popped the assemblage into her mouth.

Huh. That wasn’t half bad actually.

“Well, Emma’s leave is only for the next forty days, I think,” said Anna, making Emma log back into the conversation. “I don’t think we can make any detailed plans when she’s also planning on taking lessons of some kind.”

“What did you have in mind, Emma?” asked James, looking at Emma over the cup of his wine.

Oh boy. “Well… there’s a few options,” Emma hedged. “And because I’m military, I’m allowed to use Accelerated VR, so it shouldn’t be too much of a bother. The lessons are mostly focused on non-magical things, which they can simulate.”

“What do these things entail?” Catherine asked, raising an eyebrow. “I assume it’s not something as dry as history. You should have cortical dumps available for that.”

“Ah, er, well, there’s actually a lot of lab work you need to do,” said Emma, pushing a lock of hair behind one ear. “I’ll be taking a few fluid dynamics courses that combine cortical dumps and lab simulations. It’s important to get as literal a feel for the physics as you can, after all.”

“How does that end up factoring into your magic?”

“Well, it’s… it’s weird sometimes,” said Emma. “So, uh, did you ever read the public parts of my personal file?”

“Yes,” said James. “It is alarming reading for a parent, but, well…”

“Yes, er, so, my magic is sort of wind based, but also sort of not,” explained Emma. Talking about this topic with her parents was incredibly disconcerting. “It’s mostly based off of pressure gradients. It’s uh… sort of like if you imagined an infinite vacuum being manipulated through space, but one that also includes air currents and flow patterns?”

The table paused to collectively glance at each other.

“Well, nevermind,” said Emma, fidgeting awkwardly. “It’s uh, the best way to put it is that it’s just related enough to real-life physics to be helpful if I studied it.”

“Is all magic like this?” asked Catherine. A waiter poured her a fresh glass, appearing almost out of thin air.

“Yes and no,” said Emma. “I happen to be what’s called an Elemental. Magical girls of my classification manipulate matter in various ways, most always while defying physics. Conversely, Mikoto is a Summoner. Mikoto, if you’d like to explain?”

“Oh, yes!” Mikoto chirped. Emma resisted the urge to ruffle her kouhai’s hair as the younger magical girl set down her silverware in order to gesture properly. “Being a Summoner means that I pull things out of ‘hammerspace’, that’s actually the technical term yes it’s weird, and send them at the enemy. Most everybody does a different thing, even if it’s just a little bit different, and the magical girls who do something the same as someone else usually do it because it’s their specialty.”

“The Sub-classification is ‘Mimic’,” added Emma, forcing Mikoto to pause and give her parents a chance to catch up. “They’re sorta rare.”

“Yeah! But so, I summon bears,” said Mikoto. “Real actual bears, not teddy bears, even though technically my magical weapon is a teddy bear but— erm.”

Emma patted Mikoto on the shoulder as the latter flushed. “Don’t be embarrassed. Every magical girl has their own thing.”

“R-right.”

“I see,” said Catherine, looking over at her husband with a raised eyebrow. “It appears I’m missing out on a fascinating field then.”

“Ah, but then nobody would be there to do the things you’re capable of at the company,” said James. “Or raising our children to become the beautiful, talented young ladies they are now.”

Anna and Emma gave each other looks of deepest suffering. Mikoto restrained a giggle.

“Oh, so, after dinner, do you mind if I go see a vid?” asked Mikoto, turning to Emma. “I met some friends at the fair we went to earlier and we were thinking of seeing one.”

Emma shrugged. “Seems fine. Let me know if you don’t an unplanned sleepover or something.”

“Okay!”

The discussion after dinner was less banal. The family had retreated to the privacy of their living room after Mikoto had left for her vid, and they were all cradling drinks of some kind as the settled into their seats.

“Alright, I don’t want to make this into too much of a thing,” said James as he sipped a glass of whiskey. “But unfortunately, it’s going to be a bit of an ordeal however we slice it. Emma, we’ve left you out of the loop since you’ve been… engaged in other things, and Anna’s only been getting bits and pieces. As things progress, it’s becoming important for you two to know as much detail as possible.”

Emma didn’t respond, and instead focused on her own whiskey glass. She had opted to include a single maraschino cherry in her drink this time, and focused on swirling it around in a circle.

The silence began to grow awkward.

“Starting at the beginning then,” said Catherine. “The information we’re about to provide is incomplete, but is the best we have at this time. I’m sure, Emma, you’ll appreciate the difficulty of getting good intelligence.”

Emma glanced up at her mother and nodded.

“A few weeks ago, Emma allowed a member of the Burnside-Sinclair Matriarchy to take a blood sample for testing,” continued Catherine. “According to this member’s testimony, she intentionally withheld the results of the DNA analysis until she was able to notify Emma as to their results. These results were made public about one week ago, indicating that Emma’s genetic profile, and by extension our family’s genetic profile, shares certain markers with the Burnside-Sinclair Matriarchy’s main bloodline. The link is distant, as a matter of course, but since the results have gone public the Burnside-Sinclairs have decided to attempt to claim us as a member family.”

“Simultaneously, marriage pre-nup negotiations between Ami Hashimoto and Ryouichi Shizuki, the latter being a member of the Shizuki Matriarchy, were concluded to the satisfaction of all involved parties,” continued James. “As I recall, you’re familiar, Emma, with Ryouichi’s younger brother, Ryouta?”

Emma blinked in surprise, then nodded. “Ryouta’s a friend, yeah.”

“Has he told you anything?”

“About the same as you have so far, while we were waiting for our flight out of Helsinberg,” said Emma, shrugging. “It’s what it is. I’m not terribly interested.”

“Ah, I see,” said James. He glanced at Catherine briefly, then continued speaking: “Well, the details are relatively straightforward. At the end of the day, the pre-nup effectively enforces permanent Hashimoto claims over their shares in Hashimoto and Sinclair Investments and Securities, while allowing a certain degree of direct Shizuki influence into the situation. The effect of this is to place us, the Sinclair Family, in an unusual and problematic situation.”

“In particular, the Shizuki Matriarchy is sufficiently massive as to constitute multiple acting bodies,” said Catherine. “This shifts our position from one of relative equal footing to one where we have extremely low influence, compared to the theoretical collective power of the Shizuki Matriarchy.”

“That being said, there is no reason as of yet to suspect that we will be in a situation where this lack of influence will be hurtful,” added James. “Current indicators show that the Shizuki Matriarchy is content to allow us to do what we see fit. As it turns out, we happen to know what we’re doing.”

“However, this will not be the same for you,” said Catherine, gesturing her glass at Emma and Anna. “You are still young, and lack experience. While your father and I have every confidence in you, the fact remains that your youth presents an opening the Shizuki Matriarchy would be foolish not to take advantage of. If they can influence HSIS more, they will, if only to snag more of that quarterly profit.”

“The question, then, is what do we do about it,” said James. “It’s a complicated problem that needs all hands on deck to solve.”

Emma set her drink down and tried not to let her distaste for the situation show on her face. “Anna has the finances and logistics covered,” she said as she crossed her arms. “She’s always been better at that sort of thing. Why do you need me?”

James paused, then looked at her with an appraising eye. “Do you want the nice answer or the truth?”

Emma’s lips thinned and snatched her glass up off the table. “The truth, please.”

“You’re useful,” said James bluntly. “You’re a source of intelligence, and good, spinnable PR. If we’re here to make friends and influence people, you’re the only window we have right now into the deeper reaches of the MSY.”

“Not much of a window,” Emma scoffed, gesturing vaguely with her drink. “I’m not exactly old.”

“Then make friends,” said Catherine blithely. “You mentioned at some point that you’re religious now?”

“Yes,” said Emma. She raised a defiant eyebrow. “Is it a problem?”

“No, it’s not,” said Catherine. She shrugged dismissively and sipped her wine. “The Cult is relatively harmless, compared to what it could be, and useful to boot. I think I speak for both myself and your father when I say that it would be better for you to get more involved, and create a support network for yourself by way of the Cult.”

Emma’s lips thinned, again, in distaste. “I’d rather not.”

“You’re going to have to make a network at least, whether you like it or not,” Catherine replied. “You’re not a magical girl just for fun.”

“How do you know?”

“Team captain at twelve years old?” asked James rhetorically. “We may have been neglectful parents, but we know drive when we see it. No, we shouldn’t have pulled you from football, but that doesn’t detract from the fact that you have always wanted to be the best you can be.”

“To get the opportunities you want, you’ll need help,” said Catherine. “Mentors and people with connections. The Cult is a good way to do this, and everything we’ve heard makes it sound like the Cult actively tries to help. You may as well use what you have available, and share with us whatever you learn.”

Emma looked down at her hands. She closed her left hand, then her right.

“Alright,” she said as she reached for her whiskey. “Fine. I’ll help where I can.”

“Thank you. Do you have any thoughts on how to start?”

Emma tapped a finger against the side of her glass. “I’m not sure yet, there’s not enough information. It might help if I move into the dormitories at the Church. I’ve been thinking about it anyway.”

“It would,” said Catherine. She began to speak, then paused and turned back to Emma. “That being said, are there other reasons, aside from the cold-blooded ones?”

Emma tried not to give too much away in her expression. “I… well, I just want an apartment of my own, I guess,” she said, before looking away guiltily. “For, um, personal stuff.”

Catherine and James looked at each other, the former giving the latter a pointed look.

“That’s so unfair,” Anna said, shaking her head. “But, for the record—” she looked over to her parents with a grin “—I totally called it.”

Emma coughed, and hid behind her glass of whiskey.

“Well, I suppose it is inevitable,” said James blithely. “I reserve the right to embarrass you about any rumors we hear.”

“As do I,” said Catherine, smiling. “Also unwelcome advice.”

“You could always spend the night at their place you know,” said Anna. “Save me the indignity of being the only one without her own flat.”

“Oh shut up, the lot of you,” Emma muttered, feeling herself get increasingly red.

“Alright, alright, all joking aside then,” said James. “Both of you, neither myself nor your mother is going to judge you for your personal business. But. Keep in mind the implications of any rumors you cause. Emma, you know how to get rooms on your own, so we’ll let you deal with that.”

“Thanks.”

“Now, Anna, we’ll probably want you to come over to HSIS relatively soon,” said Catherine. “I know you have other work to do with your current internship, so we’ll have to work that out, but that’s ending soon anyway.”

Anna nodded. “Alright. What else?”

“For now? Prepare,” said James. “We need to see what happens when we meet with Ami later this week. Sort out whatever you need to sort out, so that we won’t have any hiccups once Ami gives us her updates. Everybody clear?”

Emma and Anna nodded.

“Good. We start tomorrow.”


	4. A Night on the Town

The bar Emma was sitting in had been cautious about letting her in without a chaperone. It was a bit of a hole in the wall, several minutes of transport-tube-riding away from the MSY Corridor. The bartender wasn’t used to magical girl customers and had been worried.

It made sense, especially given how young some magical girls were. It was still infuriating. Thankfully, Emma’s soul gem, and her magical summoning of it, had convinced the bartender that she was old enough to at least be let in. Even then, the bartender had still sent Emma a private text message letting her know that he was going to keep a closer eye on her, out of a sense of caution. It was wholly unnecessary, and made Emma feel singled out.

The stares that Emma felt following her as she made for a booth in the back didn’t help.

The seat creaked as Emma shifted her weight, sipping her whiskey. She was wearing another hoodie, this one a blue and white zip-up, over the military-issue black shirt and camouflage trousers that she’d picked up in Samsara. They’d been close at hand, and she didn’t see any reason to wear anything else. These days, the jeans she used to prefer felt alien and unpleasant. She wasn’t quite sure why.

The whiskey she was drinking was handmade from a distillery up in northern Hokkaido. Good, if a bit unusual to her palate. Emma’s father imported his whiskey from Ireland, and it tasted very different. Quite smooth, with a bit of sweetness, in contrast to the rougher, darker flavors of the whiskey Emma was drinking now.

It was the first chance Emma had gotten all day to sit down and relax. She’d sent Mikoto off to get settled into her new apartment, then gone to the Church’s underground medical bay for the cortical dumps that came with her mundane coursework. The process had taken up most of the morning and been singularly unpleasant. The sensation was said to be like opening and closing boxes, except Emma felt more as if someone had reached into her head and crammed in a bunch of foam and stuffing, leaving her mind feeling bloated and uncomfortable.

Then she’d had to go back upstairs to the housing office and sign up for a room, find one that was immediately available, and actually move in. She had ended up with a small efficiency-style apartment several levels down. It was reasonably large, with enough space for a bed and a desk, as well a kitchenette where she had her own synthesizer and a countertop for eating the food that came from it.

The heavy lifting of the move was done by drone, of course, but the exact set up was something only she could really direct. It wasn’t hard, just time consuming, mostly involving some of her personal effects and arranging the furniture to her liking.

It reminded Emma far too much about commanding drones in combat, and the memories that she didn’t want to think about.

The whiskey was starting to kick in now. It was a nice feeling, though getting drunk in the bar was a very different experience compared to getting drunk while wandering the streets of Helsinberg.

The bartender’s eyes felt like tiny feet crawling over Emma’s neck.

Her glass clinked as she set it down, a robotic server sweeping it away and replacing it with another one immediately. Emma watched the amber liquid within wobble from the brief motion, then picked up the glass and took a sip.

Good. She wasn’t being treated like a child.

The rest of her leave seemed like it would be relatively uneventful though. Just laboratory experiments she was expected to attend in order to gain a firmer understanding of the physics she’d downloaded, a few training courses for polearm fighting, and figuring out what she wanted to do in the future.

The way the military worked, Emma wasn’t expected to do any serious training while on “rest” leave. Her free time was intended entirely for rest and relaxation, with no obligations apart from the occasional demon hunt. A lot of people spent most of that time in time-dilated VR, pulling in their families with them via military privileges, and children still in school could have their schoolwork forwarded to them as was appropriate. The goal was to mentally recuperate, not work yourself into the ground.

Afterwards though, each soldier had a choice. If the military didn’t simply reassign them, he or she could choose to complete a training course and get assigned as a replacement in an appropriate unit, return to their previous unit, or request a reassignment. The last was encouraged, to an extent, in order to give soldiers a wider breadth of experience.

Emma knocked back her glass, then blinked at the girl sitting across from her. It was Eliana Cruz again, the girl that Emma had talked to while in line to visit the Ribbon. She wore a light colored dress with billowy shoulder sleeves and a bow across her waist. It matched the sapphire blue of her soul gem, set in ring form on her middle finger.

“When did you get there?” Emma asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Just now,” said Eliana. She waggled her fingers, smiling slightly. “Like magic.”

“Uh huh,” said Emma, unamused.

“I’m very good at sneaking around magical girls,” said Eliana. She shrugged. “Comes with the job, y’know.”

“What’s that then?”

Eliana raised her eyebrow. “You should look up others more often. I’m in MagOps.”

Emma shrugged again, accepting another glass of whiskey from the serving drone. “I know more than one girl in MagOps.”

Eliana rolled her eyes. “What’re you up to?”

“Well, as you can see, I am currently consuming whiskey,” said Emma, holding up her glass indicatively. She took a swig and sighed. “I intend to continue consuming whiskey.”

“Why’s that then? It sounds boring.”

“Better than sitting around thinking.”

“Ah.”

Eliana watched as Emma sipped from her glass. A moment later, a tall glass of clear liquid arrived for Eliana. It had been chilled with three ice cubes, then mixed and garnished with some sort of green foliage. A black straw was stuck through the surface.

“What’s that?” Emma asked, gesturing with her glass.

“It’s called a mojito,” said Eliana, sipping from the straw. “A mix of rum and lime juice, sweetened with crushed mint leaves and sugar. I’d get a caipirinha, but this bar doesn’t have cachaca.”

“What’s cachaca?”

“It’s like rum, except it’s made from straight sugarcane juice,” said Eliana. “Rum is made from molasses. Same plant, very different drinks.”

Emma nodded. “Makes sense. Is that any good?”

“I like it,” said Eliana, nodding. “This place does a good mojito. Switch with you?”

Emma nodded again, and they exchanged glasses. She took a considering sip.

“That is good,” said Emma in surprise. “I didn’t know about this.”

“I can teach you if you want,” said Eliana. “I spent a few years in Jamaica during the Unification Wars, after moving back to Brazil.”

“You fought?”

“Of course,” said Eliana, scoffing. “You didn’t look up my age either? I turned four hundred and thirty seven a few weeks ago.”

Emma choked on her drink.

“Wha— seriously?”

“Oh yeah,” said Eliana, handing Emma a napkin. “Joined the Soul Guard back when it first started up, then did special missions during the Unification Wars.”

Emma blinked at Eliana while wiping rum off her chin. This was absurd.

“Don’t Ancients have, like, things to do?” asked Emma. “Why’re you spending your time talking to me?”

“Oh, a few reasons,” said Eliana, shrugging. “Most of all because of your vision.”

“Seriously?”

Eliana smiled. “An old lady like me can’t help but be interested in seeing how a girl like you will deal with it.”

Emma snorted and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. I totally buy that.”

“Believe what you will,” said Eliana, shrugging. “Ultimately, I just want to be friends.”

“Mm. Fair enough, I guess,” said Emma, sipping the mojito again. “I never thanked you for helping me after the vision.”

“No worries,” said Eliana, chuckling. “You were a little unsteady on your feet. It was the least I could do for a fellow magical girl.”

“Have you really been waiting all these years to see something like that?” asked Emma.

“Yes,” said Eliana. “I was at New Athens, when the squid first attacked. A dozen years isn’t that much for someone like me though, so it’s surprising that it happened so soon. It makes you wonder. You believe in the Goddess?”

Emma blinked. “Yes.”

“Hmm,” Eliana mused, sipping Emma’s whiskey. “Interesting…”

Emma looked askance at Eliana and drank more of mojito. “Um, what is?”

Eliana stared at Emma briefly, then sucked down the whiskey in one gulp. “Finish your mojito. I want to take you barhopping.”

“Huh?”

“Finish your mojito,” said Eliana. “Trust me, okay? It’ll be fun.”

Emma frowned at Eliana and considered refusing. The girl had shown up literally at random, and while the Network had confirmed everything Eliana had said, it still was difficult to just trust someone instantly.

Then again, this was Mitakihara, and magical girl on magical girl crime was nearly unheard of. The worst that happened was the occasional fistfight during a nasty breakup, but Emma was hardly intending to date Eliana. And, most importantly, whatever Eliana was proposing would be an excellent distraction from thinking about the future.

Emma could even justify it as making connections.

“What the hell then,” said Emma, tipping back the rest of the mojito and wiping her mouth. “What next?”

As it turned out, “barhopping” referred to heading back to, then wandering the entire length of, the MSY Corridor and visiting nearly every bar there, having one or two drinks at each. They’d ended up joining a party for a while, though they’d skipped out when the party had wanted to visit a nightclub and find somebody to bang for the night. Afterwards, they’d had a few more cocktails in a calmer lounge, intending to sober up enough not to make a fool of themselves on the way to Emma’s new apartment. The venture promptly failed as Eliana began to relate funny stories about her past experiences with the Church’s founder.

Emma flopped onto her bed, giggling incessantly as Eliana’s latest story concluded.

“That really happened?” she asked Eliana. “Wow! Ancients have so many incredible secrets!”

“Don’t tell anyone,” hushed Eliana, sitting down on Emma’s floor with a thunk. “Kyouko’d totally kill me.”

“Heee. I won’t.”

Emma kicked her shoes off, wiggling upright to lean against the wall. “You don’t have to sit there you know,” she said, patting the bed next to her. “Come sit! It’s more comfortable.”

“Well…”

“Come onnn!”

“Fair enough then,” said Eliana, making her way onto Emma’s bed and sitting down. The bed sagged briefly, before stabilizing. “So! Vids, right? Do you have anything in mind?”

“Let’s watch something stupid and dumb,” said Emma. “Like um… like that vid about the police guy in old-timey Hong Kong, and the kung fu!”

“Oh oh, I know which you mean,” said Eliana. The wall across from them began to roll the opening of the movie as the room’s lights dimmed.

“In the year 2027, the City of Hong Kong is in chaos,” the deep voice of the narrator boomed. “Conflict between the People and the Communist Party of China has erupted in a mass uprising across the entire city…”

It was a typical Governance-sponsored semi-propaganda film. Hammy and stereotypical, with plenty of action and explosions that typified mass-market blockbusters. It was incredibly dumb, but fun all the same. Soon enough, the protagonist was angsting over something or another that involved dead protesters.

“So, you going to tell me why you were drinking yourself into a hole today?” Eliana asked as a protester on screen began to sing about the rights of the people.

“Hmmm?” asked Emma, blinking up at Eliana. When had she started leaning against Eliana’s shoulder?

“You were pretty upset today, when I found you,” said Eliana. “You looked determined to have an entire bottle on your own.”

“Oh. Eh, just bad memories,” said Emma cheerfully. “Whiskey makes them go away. It’s really nice.”

“What sort of memories?” asked Eliana.

Emma paused, and swallowed. “You know the kind.”

Eliana sighed. “I see.”

The vid continued, beginning a long car chase sequence with thrilling action shots and a variety of antique cars slammed into walls. The protagonist ended up trapped behind a wall of fire, without hope of escape, before a ventilation shaft opened up miraculously and two hands pulled him in.

“You should see the MHD about your memories,” said Eliana as the protagonist and the obvious love interest crawled through the ventilation as fast as they could. “Drinking like this isn’t healthy.”

“I don’t do it that often,” said Emma.

“It might get worse.”

“It won’t.”

“You don’t know th—”

“It won’t,” Emma snapped angrily. “I’m a magical girl. I fight monsters. I can’t do that if I’m drunk all the time. Stop acting like I’ll neglect that duty.”

Eliana gave Emma an undefinable look, before nodding and turning back to the vid.

“My mistake,” said Eliana. “Sorry. Just don’t forget it’s there, if you need it.”

Emma paused, then nodded. “Okay.”

Eliana left between three and four in the morning. Emma walked her out to the elevator, then went back to her room and slept for two more hours. That left her half an hour to change into a different hoodie— black with a yellow “go faster” stripe across the hood and the back —to get to pre-demon patrol briefing and check in with the commander, Major Jiuliana Acciaioli. The patrol met in the Refectory, where magical girls milled about with pastries and coffee in hand.

“Ah, Emma, good morning,” said a girl, appearing with a basket of bagels and a cup of coffee. “I’m Jiuliana, welcome to Patrol Group D.”

“Good morning,” said Emma as Jiuliana handed her the cup. “It’s a pleasure.”

“A pleasure to have you as well,” said Jiuliana. She gestured with the basket for Emma to take a bagel. “Now, I understand that you’re coming back from Samsara?”

“Yes,” said Emma. The Everything Bagel looked good.

“You’ve worked as part of an assault team then.”

“Yes.”

“Good, then I want you running up front,” said Jiuliana. “You’ll be with Team Three, they’re short one girl at the moment.”

“Do we have teleporter support?” asked Emma. She bit into her bagel, and found that it tasted as good as she had expected.

“We only have enough for the Bomb Squads,” said Jiuliana. “Extraction is an option if you guys get caught in a bad spot, but we’ve got enough ranged fighters that it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Alright,” said Emma. “Then I guess I’ll go talk to my team?”

“Go ahead,” said Jiuliana with a nod, moving off. “The patrol route is on your interface. Team Three is…” She paused, then pointed to the left. “Over there, by the pillar.”

Team Three was one of several three-girl teams. According to Emma’s implants, the missing girl had redeployed a few weeks ago. The two who remained were midway through leave cycles. They stood untransformed by the pillar, waiting for the pre-patrol briefing to start. Vivianne Tamboli, a tall brunette with short hair and dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants, looked extremely displeased to be there. Shoshana Grosser was shorter, with light brown hair down to her waist, and looked vaguely amused at Vivianne’s bad mood.

“Good morning,” said Emma, waving vaguely with her bagel. “I’m Emma Sinclair, wind elemental. I’ll be joining you for the foreseeable future.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Shoshana. “It’s good to have you. Don’t mind Vivianne, she’s always like this.”

Vivianne grunted and sipped her coffee.

“Is she okay?” asked Emma.

“I’m fine,” groaned Vivianne. “It’s too early for this shit is all.”

“No, I don’t know why it bothers her either,” said Shoshana as Emma paused in confusion. “I don’t think anyone does.”

“It’s because of my wish, I told you,” said Vivianne grumpily. “Stupid Incubators fucked it up, I swear.”

“And I keep telling you, wishes don’t work that way,” said Shoshana. “I looked it up and there’s no evidence to support it.”

“No trend,” said Vivianne. “Doesn’t mean exceptions don’t occur. I should totally get the MHD to like, scan my brain or something. My wish scrambled my head, I’m telling you.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense,” blurted Emma. She immediately flushed.

“See, she agrees with me!” said Shoshana smugly. She flashed Emma a grin. “Knew I could count on you, Emma.”

“Bah,” grumbled Vivianne. “Fine, whatever. What sort of magic you do, Emma?”

“Er, wind magic?”

“Yeah yeah, what kind though?” asked Vivianne. She snatched a bagel from a passing serving drone and began to munch it aggressively. “You make hurricanes or something?”

“No, no, that’s way beyond me,” said Emma with a small laugh. “I uh, well, I make wind that cuts I guess? It’s sort of abstract.”

“Eh, good enough. You’re AOE I think, according to your file?”

“Mostly, yes, mixed with melee.”

“Good, you’ll mesh well then,” said Vivianne. She tipped back the rest of her cup, then looked at it sadly. “Shoshana, you want to do the run down? I’m going to get more coffee.”

“You could help me you know,” said Shoshana. “It’s better if you can explain your parts.”

“Eh, whatever,” said Vivianne as she began walking away.

Shoshana sighed, then turned back to Emma.

“Well, the short version is that we’re primarily a containment and reconnaissance team,” she began. “We’ll be out on the leading edge of the patrol, scanning for miasmas and working to keep it from spreading. First ones in, last ones out.

I’m a summoner-slash-clairvoyant, and summon crows that speak over telepathy. They’ll range ahead. Vivianne shoots grenades and has reasonably good clairvoyance as well, so the plan’s always been for her to perform a general attack from mid-range while I harass the demons to draw aggro. It’s been difficult without a third person.

With you specializing in AOE and melee, we’ll want you to engage high priority clusters while we concentrate on suppression. I’ll use my crows to flag targets based on priority and send them to you over clairvoyance, and Vivianne will be able to drop rounds on whatever you flag as a target. Make sense?”

“Yeah, I can do that,” said Emma as Vivianne wandered back, sipping from an entire carafe of coffee now. “Anything special I should know about you guys’ powers?”

“Not really,” said Shoshana. “We’re both pretty straightforward, so far as magic goes.”

“I can switch between flares, incendiaries, and smoke grenades,” said Vivianne. “Not just high explosive.”

“Ah, right, I forgot,” said Shoshana, looking slightly embarrassed.

Vivianne gave Shoshana a longsuffering look, then turned to Emma. “You’ll have to tag targets, especially if you want me to do something specific. Otherwise, I’ll just use HE rounds.”

Emma nodded. “Okay, got it.”

“So with that done with, tell us a little about yourself, Emma,” said Shoshana. She smiled, a little creepily, at Emma. “You have a girlfriend? Or boyfriend, I suppose.”

“Er, are girlfriends really that common between magical girls?” asked Emma.

“Yeah, pretty much,” said Shoshana with a shrug. “I’d almost say me and Vivianne are dating, but it’s really more casual than anything else.”

“I— okay?” said Emma. She looked at Vivianne, who smirked and sipped her coffee.

Well then.

“Er, well, I mean, I don’t really have a girlfriend or a boyfriend,” said Emma, “though I’m sort of working on both?”

“Ooo, still choosing, or both at once?” asked Shoshana.

“Erm, w-well, I— I guess I haven’t figured that out yet?” said Emma. She felt herself blushing and looked away, biting into her bagel. “We’ve uh, not had much time to talk about it.”

“Battlefield romance then,” said Shoshana, nodding thoughtfully. “Well, as a bit of unsolicited advice, try and figure out what you want to do quickly. Leaving people hanging just creates hurt feelings.”

“I’ll, um, try,” said Emma. She fidgeted uncomfortably. “Thanks.”

“Try not to be too embarrassed,” said Vivianne consolingly as she sipped more coffee. “Shoshana’s a huge gossip, but she doesn’t mean any harm.”

“I’m not that huge a gossip!”

“Yes you are.”

Shoshana huffed. “Jiuliana is getting started. We should pay attention.”

The pre-patrol briefing was dull. It was important to pay attention, of course, but Emma had eschewed a career in finance partly to avoid meetings like this. Shoshana and Vivianne seemed to be paying attention though, so presumably they’d yell at her if she screwed up later. Emma took the chance to look around the room.

The patrol was considered “young” and was made up of roughly one hundred magical girls, organized into either teams of three or groups of nine. About a third were experienced girls on leave or reserve duty, but the rest were young contractees who were below the minimum age for military service. Mitakihara was a big place, with an already-substantial native magical girl population, making it inevitable that an unusually large number of young contractees would be present in the area. Since classes typically started sometime between 10:00 and 11:00 AM, it was common for younger girls who wanted, or needed, to continue their pre-contract career tracks to go demon hunting before school. Those who preferred to sleep in, even though they didn’t need to, would often show up after school for the 5:00 PM slot. Older girls who were already in the military were more evenly distributed.

Mikoto was, apparently, organized into a group of summoners, providing support for the rest of the teams from the fringes. She was part of a minority of contractees who were both very new and below service age. The vast majority of the younger magical girls had been contracted for at least a few months, were used to things, and had formed close-knit patrol teams. Mikoto was somewhat isolated as a result, but— Emma tried not to be too obvious as she examined the girls Mikoto was sitting with —she seemed to have found friends quickly.

“Hey Mikoto,” Emma whispered telepathically. She smiled as Mikoto flinched, then glanced around to see if anybody noticed.

“Hey Emma!” said Mikoto. “You’re here too?”

“Yeah. I’m still finalizing my schedule, but I’ll have class in the day, so this time made sense. Having fun with the meeting?”

Mikoto shrugged. “It’s alright I guess? It’s a lot like the ones we had on Samsara.”

“Yeah, it’s nothing new,” said Emma. She turned back to the front, watching the diagrams projected into the air. “I sort of wish we could just get on with it, though I guess reviewing doesn’t hurt.”

Mikoto shrugged again, the gesture transmitted through telepathy. “I guess.”

“Do you have class today?”

“Mmhm, starting at 10:30 and going until three.”

“You excited?”

“Yeah! My roommates were telling me about the classes, and they seem fun.”

Emma concealed a laugh as Jiuliana segued into the conclusion of her briefing.

“How was the move then?” Emma asked. “It sounds like you like your roommates.”

“I do, yeah, they’re pretty cool,” said Mikoto. “The move was fine. I found a vintage-style desk for my room that I think is cute.”

“What are your roommates like? Any interesting stories from the first day?”

“Well, we got lucky and ended up with only three people in a four-person suite,” said Mikoto. “So there’s me and Tabitha Asenov in one room, and Lily Fong in the other.”

“Are they all from Earth?”

“Lily is, she’s from San Francisco. Tabitha’s from a colony called Novyy Zemelʹnyy. They’re both summoners too, of course. Lily summons sheep, and Tabitha summons cockroaches, which is kind of creepy, if I’m honest.”

“Cockroaches?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s a cockroach?”

“These big, big bugs,” said Mikoto, sounding unsettled. “I mean, like, huge.”

Emma restrained the urge to roll her eyes. “It’s just an insect. I’m sure Tabitha’s are nice.”

“I mean, sure, but they’re like the size of my hand.”

Emma had to conceal a laugh again. “Yeah well, maybe if you let one of them ride you for a while, you’d get used to it.”

“Eeeww! Emma!”

“Heh, sorry, sorry,” said Emma, hiding her smile behind a coffee mug. “What about Lily? Anything interesting about her summons?”

“They’re not very smart, but they can talk,” said Mikoto. “It’s kind of funny watching them yell at the mirror.”

“…Wow, that’s impressive.”

“Yeah, I know right?”

“Are you three all on this patrol?”

“Yeah. We’re in the same classes after all.”

“I’ll have to keep an eye out for you guys,” said Emma as the meeting wrapped up. “It sounds like you’ll be interesting to see in action.”

“Thanks!”

The patrol had half an hour to requisition any weaponry and supplementary equipment they wanted from the armory. Emma got her old standby of extra combat armor. She was sitting on the roof, pulling on the individual plates and giving them a temporary aesthetic enchantment. Shoshana and Vivianne were sitting with her, not having any preparatory things to do themselves. The rest of the patrol was scattered across the roof and the grounds below.

It was interesting. Emma wasn’t used to seeing this many magical girls all at once preparing for a mission.

“Ah, figures that you’d be getting armor,” said Shoshana. Her costume was dark grey, with a full skirted dress lined with bronze. She had a tall fur hat on her head, with a single black feather as an ornament.

Emma glanced up at the older girl and shrugged. “Always did it. Seemed logical. I never got why it was only the melee girls who did it in my training cohort.”

“It’s not only melee girls, really,” said Vivianne. She had transformed into a suit of white, full-body ballistic armor, patterned with dark-orange and yellow honeycomb on the panels and black at the joints. At the moment, her costume’s helmet was tucked under one arm. “It’s more that there’s a few different archetypes that end up liking armor and extra weaponry for some reason.”

“Really?” asked Emma, tugging on a shoulder plate with a grunt.

“Yeah. All the obvious ones, like touch-based powers or barrier generators, tend to like getting extra armor. It’s also true for anyone who was a military otaku before contracting. It’s rare outside that, though nobody’s sure why. I think the latest theory is that it has to do with your wish interacting with your subconscious self-image and affecting your ability to utilize magic when that self-image is corrupted in reality.”

Vivianne paused as Emma stared at her.

“What?”

“Nothing,” said Emma, going back to putting on armor. “You’re just really talkative suddenly.”

“Hey, I got coffee,” said Vivianne with a shrug and a grin. “Coffee’s good stuff.”

“I… I guess?”

“Don’t think about it too much,” said Shoshana, patting Emma on the shoulder.


	5. Continuing Progress

It turned out that flying bears were a highly effective combat tool.

Emma ducked into cover as Mikoto’s armored bear roared through the air to slam into a demon, flattening it into the ground before it exploded into grief cubes.

“Ach, bugger off, ye overgrown sausage!” shouted a passing ram as it headbutted another demon. “Git ye’self away!”

Emma rolled her eyes and pressed a grief cube against her soul gem. Mikoto and her roommate, Lily, were doing well for their first time working together as a team. Mikoto benefitted from her experiences on Samsara, and Lily had been on a few hunts back in San Francisco. Tabitha flitted around in the background, providing support in a surprising number of roles. A colossal cockroach trundled by, two civilians lashed to the top with rope while a magical girl with a bow rode on top. As Emma finished with her grief cube, the magical girl sent off a volley of arrows to bombard a cluster of demons, then exited the miasma.

“New target, Emma,” said Shoshana, her magic shimmering over Emma’s vision and marking another group of demons. “Two civilians, four demons.”

“Copy that,” said Emma, charging up her magic. “Age?”

“One adult, one child.”

“Understood.”

Emma’s wind howled as she crossed the miasma in a second. The swirling tendrils cut open the first demon Emma hit, then knocked the other four back. Emma skidded to a stop in front of the park bench the parent and child were slumped on, eyes glazed over.

“Fire support!” Emma called out over telepathy. “HE rounds, Vivianne!”

“Rounds inbound!”

Emma picked up the two civilians, one over each shoulder, as Vivianne’s grenades began to land around her. The explosions thundered in Emma’s ears as she jumped, wobbled briefly, then pushed downwards with her magic. Her air jet carried her the rest of the way to a balcony outside of the miasma, where she paused to look back.

One hundred magical girls was a lot of firepower. It spoke to the sheer size of the miasma that they were taking longer than five minutes to clear it. From Emma’s vantage point, she could see the ranged girls from their positions, firing on targets that melee girls, like Emma, called in. The patrol had broken the miasma into sectors, the older and younger girls divvying up roles as needed and systematically breaking through the demon forces.

It was a straightforward mission so far, with Team Three as one of several advance teams that were assigned with recon and first contact. After an initial assault that disrupted the demons and split their attentions, the main patrol hit in force to shell the demons into oblivion. Most of the melee fighters weren’t seeing too much action, which was a good thing. It meant that they hadn’t needed to actually engage anything, because none of the ranged girls were getting flanked. The patrol had clear numerical and fire superiority, and it was only a matter of time until the demons were reduced.

This particular miasma had a larger-than-average number of civilians caught inside, but coverage was complete enough that part of the patrol had been split off to ferry civilians out of the miasma while everyone else continued fighting. They could afford the drop in firepower, but it did slow things down a little. On the other hand, Mikoto and Company were getting a lot of good experience working in a large team, which was always valuable.

“Mrrmn?” mumbled one of the civilians still slung over Emma’s shoulder. Quickly, Emma set them down, making sure to be gentle.

“Hey, you’re okay,” said Emma, putting on her best Magical Girl Smile as the child began to come around. He was between five and six years old, not quite old enough to start primary school, and well within the age band of children who adored magical girls. The boy blinked as Emma smoothed back his hair and looked at his eyes. The pupils were a little dilated, but he was focusing properly on her. “Hey there. My name’s Emma, you’re okay now.”

The boy nodded sleepily, still not quite aware of what’s going on. His mother was still unconscious, but that was to be expected. Children recovered from miasmic effects faster than adults.

“What’s your name?” Emma asked,

“Ken, um… Ken Saotome,” said the boy, blinking more quickly. “What happened?” He paused, before panicking. “Where’s Mom?!”

“Ssh, ssh, she’s okay,” said Emma, hugging Ken for a moment. She let go and showed him where his mother lay quietly. “She’s sleeping still. You got caught in a demon miasma, but we saved you.”

“O-oh,” said Ken. The full situation seemed to be hitting him now, and he looked up at Emma with starry eyes. “Oh, you’re a magical girl!”

“Yeah, I am,” said Emma, keeping her Smile up and patting Ken on the head. “I have to get going now, but stay here okay? Someone will come pick you guys up soon.”

“Okay!” said Ken brightly.

Emma patted him on the head again, turned, and jumped away. There were still more people to save from the miasma.

“Recovery teams, I have a pair of civvies at map marker tango-niner,” Emma called out over the local tactical network. “Request pickup ASAP.”

“Roger that, Team alfa-six is en route.”

Emma leaped back towards the miasma on a gust of wind.

“Shoshana, I’m back on station,” said Emma as she passed back into the miasma. “What do you have for me?”

“Group of four civilians, a dozen demons,” said Shoshana. “I’m arranging extra support.”

Emma paused on top of a roof as the group of demons flashed red onto her vision from Shoshana’s telepathic overlay. Emma nodded to herself. Nothing too difficult, so long as she kept moving. She took a deep breath in, preparing to leap. Magic flickered around her in a blue corona as she crouched down.

“Understood, heading in now.”

The patrol was over by roughly 9:30 AM. Since such a large proportion of the patrol had class almost immediately afterwards, the debriefing was delayed until three in the afternoon. Instead, the participants were allowed to leave immediately.

“It was good working with you today,” Shoshana said to Emma as the teams dispersed. They had all detransformed already, leaving them in their street clothes. “You fight well!”

“Thanks,” said Emma, smiling self-deprecatingly. “I’m not that great, but I try my best.”

“Well what’s important is teamwork, right?” Vivianne asked rhetorically. “We’ve got a good thing going, I think. How’s your schedule looking? We can run some drills if you want.”

“I’m just getting some last minute paperwork sorted for classes,” said Emma with a shrug. “Most of it is time-dilated sim time, but I’ve also got some personal stuff.”

“Personal stuff huh,” said Vivianne, grinning and giving Shoshana a knowing smirk. “Yeah, we’ll not infringe on that too much then.”

“But, ahem, I guess we can do some drills just before the debrief today,” said Shoshana, stifling a giggle as Emma flushed. “Does that work for you?”

“Yeah, it should be fine,” said Emma with an awkward cough. “We’re not scheduled to patrol every day, but I think we should drill every day, if you’re okay with that?”

Shoshana and Vivianne glanced at each other before nodding. “We would have suggested that if you didn’t,” said Shoshana. “There’s no point if we don’t practice every day.”

Emma nodded. “Alright then. Where’re you guys headed now?”

“Dorms,” said Shoshana with a shrug. “We’re not signed up for classes while we’re here, so we’ll probably head out to party or something later. Do you want us to send you a message to see if you’re available?”

Emma shrugged. “Sure.”

“Alright, well, then unless you’re coming our way we’ll see you later,” said Shoshana. She and Vivianne went off towards the elevators.

Going back to her room had a certain dark appeal, if Emma was honest, but all she was going to do there was drink and mope. That was clearly a recipe for gem criticality. Instead, Emma began wandering slowly towards the Church’s activities office. The MHD had encouraged her to try and find some activities to do when she wasn’t in class, after all, and Emma didn’t fancy letting her gem spiral into darkness when there were many other things still left to do.

The Church was interesting. While designed in a style that recalled the ancient cathedrals of old, there were still plenty of modernities carefully worked into the structure. The hallway Emma found herself wandering down was wide and airy, a light breeze wafting in from the gardens outside that carried the scent of roses with it. The walls looked like roughhewn limestone, though Emma’s implants assured her they were an artificial polymer capable of withstanding many times more stress than the stone it resembled.

It was a good place to study, Emma decided as she walked. The walls reflected plenty of light, and the breeze was just enough to be pleasant without being distracting. Indeed, there were several rooms branching off the hallway that were under use, either for lecture or private study.

The hallway ended in a small cupola, with a staircase off to Emma’s right. She paused, leaning against the wall to look out at the gardens. She was still at ground level, so it wasn’t really the most impressive sight. Still, it wasn’t unpleasant, and this time of year the gardens even supported a small insect population. All was quiet, except for the buzzing of insects and the sound of the wind passing.

Emma closed her eyes and savored the silence. Somehow, she felt at peace.

Somewhere a bell rang. A small chorus of voices rose behind it, singing something that Emma couldn’t quite make out through the distortion of the Church’s acoustics. She raised an eyebrow, then looked up the staircase. It sounded like it was coming from upstairs somewhere.

Emma eventually found the source of the singing. It was a group of girls chanting something in Latin in one of the church’s chapels. As Emma stepped onto a viewing balcony, her implants flashed a warning asking her to be quiet and respectful of the way other people wished to express their faith.

It was unusual. At this distance, it became clear that the group was singing both vocally and telepathically. Emma hadn’t even known it was possible to sing over telepathy, though she reflected in hindsight that it was somewhat obvious.

“Salve, Regina, Mater misericordiæ,” sang the choir, the notes stepping upwards and downwards in a gentle cadence. “vita, dulcedo, et spes nostra, salve.”

“Ad te clamamus exsules filii Hevæ,” sang a voice to Emma’s left. She jumped, turning swiftly and clamping down hard on the instinct to transform.

It was Kyouko Sakura, dressed in her by-now-iconic aquamarine hoodie and jean shorts.

“Ad te suspiramus, gementes et flentes,” the Ancient continued, before stopping and turning to Emma. “It’s an old Catholic hymn, from the Marians. Originally, it was a hymn to the Virgin Mary, and used in a lot of different contexts. The Catholic Church still sings it, of course, and it’s still the final prayer of the Rosary. Listen carefully though, right here.”

“Et Dea, benedictum fructum ventris tui,” sang the choir, “nobis post hoc exsilium ostende. O clemens, O pia, O dulcis Sancta Nobili Dea.”

“Notice how we’ve changed the lyrics a little?” said Kyouko, smiling as if she’d been caught with a hand in the cookie jar but was entirely unrepentant. “We’ve… repurposed the hymn, so that it venerates the Goddess, not the Virgin. I like it, don’t you?”

“It’s very soothing,” said Emma with a small gulp as the choir began another song.

“It is, isn’t it?” asked Kyouko rhetorically. She rustled around in her hoodie pocket and pulled out a box of pocky. She shook it, sliding a few sticks out the open end. “Want one?”

Emma took a piece of pocky and bit into the chocolatey end. “I uh, didn’t expect to see you here, Kyouko-san.”

“Eh, I wander,” said Kyouko with a shrug. She bit into her own piece of pocky. “I’m trying to avoid real work, yanno?”

“Heh, I know that feeling,” said Emma with a small smile.

“Normally I’m not really a fan of this sort of thing, if I’m honest,” Kyouko said, gesturing vaguely at the choir below. “But well, the re-write of Salve Regina is an exception. The Catholic Church has been a thorn in my side for ages, of course, but it’s a legitly well written song.”

“How do you know it?”

“Well, that’s a long story,” said Kyouko, rolling her eyes. “If you were older and more my type I might tell you some day, but as it stands that’s not gonna happen.”

Emma paused, then frowned.

“Did you just—”

“No, I did the opposite,” said Kyouko, scowling a little. “Come on, my reputation’s not that shit is it?”

“Well…”

Kyouko rolled her eyes again.

“Come on, you look like someone who’s got nothing to do at the moment,” she said, gesturing with the remains of her pocky. She shoved the last bit of stick into her mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “Walk with me.”

“O-okay?” Emma said, following the Ancient as she led Emma back out into the hallway.

“How’re things?” Kyouko asked as they walked. “I hear you’ve moved in downstairs?”

“Yes, an efficiency-style,” said Emma. “It was available, and I didn’t need much.”

“Makes sense,” said Kyouko, nodding. “You’re mentoring a kouhai too, right? How’s that going for you?”

“Well enough,” said Emma, shrugging. “I can’t supervise her constantly, obviously, and that’d be detrimental anyway. Mikoto needs her own space to grow.”

Kyouko nodded again. “Stifling senpais are always a problem.”

“But she’s in classes now, for new contractees below the service age, so that takes a lot off of me,” Emma continued. “Though if she were older, she’d be in training, so either way it’s easier now that we’re on Earth.”

“She’s a summoner, right? She just did her first big group patrol today. How’d things go?”

“She works well in her team,” said Emma with a shrug. “Everyone always braces for the worst, but I think we got lucky.”

“That’s good,” said Kyouko. She turned a corner and began wandering down another hallway. A set of lift doors was halfway down, and Kyouko began to steer towards them. “How about the family? They’re taking things well?”

“Yeah,” said Emma. “I mean, I don’t know if it’s typical, but my parents and sister seem to have taken things in stride.”

“Ah yeah? That’s good.”

“They’ve even got me looking for business opportunities in the MSY,” said Emma with a small laugh. “I mean, HSIS is important to them, but I didn’t really expect that my contract would turn into a business opportunity.”

“Ah, well, that’s to be expected,” said Kyouko. She stopped in front of the lifts and gestured for Emma to go in first. “Most of the Shizuki girls are badgered to do the same. Maybe it’d be helpful for you to talk to them?”

“Maybe,” said Emma with a shrug as she leaned against the far wall. “But uh, where are you taking me, Kyouko-san?”

“Ah, I was bored and decided I wanted a spar,” said Kyouko. She grinned toothily at Emma. “You’re up for a fight, right Emma?”

Emma, with a small sinking feeling, nodded.

The sparring ring was square, quite large, and walled off with forcefields. Emma and Kyouko had placed their soul gems into the nearby armored box after transforming.

“So, to be clear, I’m going to be holding back,” said Kyouko as she tapped the end of her spear against the ground. “I don’t want to offend you, but, well, four-hundred-something versus fourteen.”

“Y-yeah, thanks,” said Emma, holding her halberd in a nervous ready position. “I uh, well, I’d prefer to not get my ass totally kicked.”

“Nah, you’ll be fine,” said Kyouko, whirling her spear around into ready position as well. She grinned at Emma. “No holds barred for you, ‘kay? Now en garde!”

Kyouko’s movement was explosive. She crossed the sparring ring in a flash of red magic, spear extended in a powerful thrust that would have bisected Emma and left her body strewn in a bloody smear across the floor.

Fortunately, Emma was better than that, at least. She side-stepped Kyouko neatly, bringing her halberd point to bear in a counter thrust. The Ancient spun gracefully, still closing, and slammed her elbow into Emma’s chest. The metal dented under the powerful blow, but Emma stood her ground, gritting her teeth and launching a blast of air under Kyouko’s arm and into her torso. The Ancient allowed herself to be tossed backwards, flipping once in midair just in time to catch Emma’s aggressive dash forwards.

“Very nice!” Kyouko complimented as she blocked Emma’s hammerstrike and kicked the younger girl back down into the mat. “You certainly know your basics!”

Emma grit her teeth as she got back up. Kyouko attacked again, wielding her spear like an axe this time. The block was easy, sending Kyouko’s weapon skittering off to the side. Emma returned fire with a blow from the haft of her halberd, which Kyouko accepted with a wince, before grabbing the weapon and tugging Emma towards her.

Instinct saved Emma, and she dropped her halberd immediately before summoning another in a whirling overhead smash that Kyouko was forced to backpedal away from. Another blow, then once more, and then Kyouko was up against the forcefield. Emma closed into fistfighting range, a blast of wind charging in her open hand, and—

—flew backwards, jaw stinging from Kyouko’s kick. She rolled to her feet, deflecting another thrust from Kyouko, and launching a blast of wind at the Ancient. Kyouko dodged to the side and retaliated with another spear strike, this time sweeping towards Emma’s legs.

Emma jumped, a gust of wind carrying her high over Kyouko’s head. There was a fraction of second where they made eye contact, Kyouko’s spear still out of position while Emma pivoted in midair.

Then Emma powered herself downwards in a maelstrom of wind, halberd point first, to crater the floor beneath her.

“Shit, that was close,” muttered Kyouko from where she’d leaped away. “Tougher than you look, Emma.”

“Thanks,” said Emma as she brought her halberd back to ready. “I guess I might actually give you something to think about?”

“Maybe,” said Kyouko, grinning toothily again. “I used to fight like you, yanno. Lots of straight lines and big slashing moves. It works well, don’t it?”

Emma jumped again as Kyouko’s spear segmented, whirling in a long arc at lightning speed before it slammed into Emma’s block.

Damn.

Emma pushed off the attack, using its momentum to carry her higher towards the upper forcefield. More blows chased her upwards, granting Emma the opportunity to brace against the forcefield and launch herself downwards again. Her magic whipped around her as she dived down onto Kyouko with blistering speed. Just before impact, Emma extended her halberd to—

—slam into the ground again, skidding across to impact the far forcefield.

“A good idea, but well, experience wins,” said Kyouko, shrugging as she came back to ready position.

It took Emma a moment to process what had happened. Kyouko had, in the microsecond before Emma had impacted, managed to use the contact between spear and halberd to lever Emma over and completely alter her trajectory. The result had been a hard smack into the ground and, judging from the way Emma couldn’t feel her legs, a broken spine.

“I give,” Emma sighed, laying back on the ground. “I can’t feel my legs, so I’m going to just call this one.”

“Well shit,” said Kyouko. She deactivated the forcefield as she jogged over to help Emma up. “Here, you’ve already numbed the area right?”

“Yeah,” said Emma. She grunted as Kyouko lifted her, trying to ignore the way her shattered vertebrae ground against each other in her back. From the feel of it, Emma might have broken a few ribs too.

“Well I apologize for hurting you that badly,” said Kyouko as she led Emma back towards the soul gem box. “This was supposed to just be a bit of fun.”

“It’s fine,” Emma said with a small sigh. She picked up her soul gem and tucked it into her chestplate again. “I just have a long way to go is all.”

“So I’ll admit,” Kyouko said later as Emma lay in bed in the infirmary. “I did actually have an ulterior motive for finding you.”

“Uh huh,” said Emma, giving Kyouko a jaundiced look. “Somehow this doesn’t surprise me.”

“Have you thought about your vision at all?” asked Kyouko. “I know it’s only been a few days, but it’s best to follow up on this sort of thing quickly.”

Emma grimaced. She had been trying to avoid it if she was honest. “I haven’t, no. Been a bit busy, getting settled.”

“I see,” said Kyouko placidly. “Have you told anyone about it?”

“No.”

“You should,” said Kyouko. “Sharing about your vision tends to help, especially with the more confusing ones like yours. Do you have anyone you can reach out to about this?”

“No,” began Emma. “Well, I mean, technically I could try talking to Ayane or Ryouta? But Ayane isn’t religious, and I don’t know what Ryouta’s affiliations are.”

“Not your family?”

“I mean, Anna would be interested, I guess, but my parents probably wouldn’t have anything meaningful to say,” said Emma, shrugging. “They’re pretty typical Earthers on that front, you know?”

“Well, Ryouta’s a Shizuki, so he might know more than you think,” said Kyouko. “He looks like an interesting guy, judging from his artist portfolio, so maybe he’ll surprise you.”

“I guess,” said Emma. She glanced over at Kyouko’s half-unfocused expression and surmised the Ancient must be looking up all the names Emma had mentioned. “I dunno. I feel… unconfident, I guess.”

“Well, speaking as your elder, I think you’re not giving your family and friends enough credit,” said Kyouko. She crossed her arms and gave Emma an inscrutable look. “Even if they only have a small opinion, getting more perspectives is important.”

“That’s true, I guess.”

“You’re taking polearm coursework, right?”

Emma raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“I’ll cut you a deal,” said Kyouko. “You promise to talk to your friends and family about your vision and bring me back discussion points they brought up, and I’ll give you private tutoring on melee combat.”

Emma blinked, her eyebrows shooting upwards in surprise. “Wait, seriously?”

“Absolutely,” said Kyouko with a stern expression. “I take Cult business very seriously, and it doesn’t sit right in my conscience to let a vision like this go un-dealt with. Even if it’s not necessarily incredibly important from a theological point of view, I feel a responsibility.”

Emma cracked a grin. “You, feeling responsibility?”

Kyouko grinned back. “Yeah, I know right? I must be getting old. So we have a deal?”

Kyouko extended a hand to shake. Emma looked at it, thinking things over. It was a glorious opportunity that Kyouko was giving her, but the talks Kyouko was demanding out of her were going to be… difficult, to say the least.

But…

“Alright,” said Emma, reaching out to shake Kyouko’s hand. “Deal.”

Emma was discharged from the infirmary with her back stitched together but not fully healed. It was better, the attending nurse had said, for Emma’s body to heal itself. Something about how biological processes did things better in some arcane way that Emma didn’t really follow.

Kyouko had made sure to emphasize that tutoring and mentoring were different things before she left. Emma wasn’t officially Kyouko’s mentee; that was still Sarah Johansen’s responsibility. It was only as if Emma was taking a polearms class, and Kyouko happened to be the instructor. Everything Cult-related was to be as a religious leader to a member of the flock and, again, was not to be construed as if Emma was Kyouko’s official mentee.

“Being a mentor’s important,” Kyouko had said before she’d left. “I’m not going to step on Sarah’s toes. Speaking of which, talk to her about your vision too. I know you two aren’t as close as you could be, but, well, think of it as a bonding experience.”

It all left Emma with a feeling of foreboding. She wasn’t entirely sure she was on board with things anymore, but at this point she couldn’t really pull out of the deal. Goddess knew that Kyouko would probably just track her down again.

Emma sighed as she sat down on her bed in her room and lay back, staring up at the ceiling. Her life was getting complicated.

She checked her chronometer. She still had plenty of time before debriefing. According to the network, Ayane was available for chatting. Ryouta, it seemed, was currently asleep. Emma flicked open Ryouta’s profile page, and smiled to herself as she scanned his most recent posts. They all seemed to be excited updates on how his art show was going, and how he’d received opportunities for career advancement that were extremely rare for someone his age.

“Hey Ryouta,” Emma said as a small recording box appeared on her interface. “Just checking in to say hi. You seem to be doing well, so I wanted to congratulate you. I guess you’re all tuckered out from the work you’re doing, because it says right now you’re asleep, so I’ll leave you to it. Message me back when you get the chance, okay? Bye!”

She sent the recording as a private message and turned her attention to Ayane. The little portrait blinked twice before Ayane picked up.

“Hi Emma!” Ayane said. “How’re things? I noticed earlier you were in the infirmary, did you hurt yourself demon hunting?”

“Nah, sparring accident,” said Emma. “Nothing major, I got patched up quickly. What are you up to right now?”

“Just laying around,” said Ayane. “My train’s in a few hours but I got the day off from my research advisor.”

“I’m picking you up at about four, right?” asked Emma.

“Yeah. Did you remember to tell your family?”

Emma paused, then quickly sent a notification to her family’s group chat. “Yes.”

Ayane giggled. “Liar, you completely forgot until just now when I reminded you!”

“No no, I totally told them earlier today.”

“Uh huh.”

“Anyway, do you want to video-chat?” Emma asked as her family sent acknowledging, vaguely-annoyed-but-ultimately-not-terribly-bothered replies her way. “I’ve got some time to laze around as well.”

“Sure,” said Ayane. A moment later her portrait beeped open into a shot of her head and shoulders. She appeared to be lying on her bed in her underwear, judging from the straps of her camisole that were just visible in the view of the camera. “So how did your hunt go?”

“Eh, nothing terribly interesting,” said Emma with a shrug. “We didn’t encounter any particularly oversized miasmas, so the patrol just sort of plowed through everything.”

“Ah, that’s good, if a little boring,” said Ayane. “All’s well that ends well I guess. What other news on your end?”

“Well, I moved into the Cult’s apartments,” said Emma. “Or dormitories, I guess. I have an efficiency-style apartment to myself now.”

“Aw jeez, your parents let you do that” said Ayane with a pout. “I’m really jealous!”

“What, won’t your parents let you?”

“No, they’re all clingy and stuff,” said Ayane with a sigh. “They keep trying to pamper me. I guess it’s true what they say about parents.”

“Well, you know, I guess I’m just lucky,” said Emma, flushing a little in embarrassment. “But uh, what sort of plans did you have for when you get here?”

“Not much, honestly,” said Ayane. She shifted restlessly, turning to prop her legs up against the nearby wall and hanging her head over the side of her bed. “I mean, you remember when I visited for newbie orientation, right? Tours of cities aren’t really that fun.”

“Well, I mean, we’re going to dinner first,” said Emma. “Since that’s happening, we could try to just wander the city for a while and talk? There’s a lot of really nice rooftops we can hang out on.”

Ayane smiled and nodded. “That sounds like a wonderful evening, Emma.”

“What about later?” Emma asked. “You’re staying for a while, so you’ll have to entertain yourself a lot, but I’d like to be with you whenever I can.”

Ayane shrugged again. “I’m up for more wandering, honestly. If that’s okay with you?”

“Well, lemme see,” said Emma. She pulled open her schedule. “For classwork, all the stuff I have is in time-dilated sim, so I have a lot of free time in that respect. I have some appointments with family stuff, but we should be able to plan around that. It looks like I’m pretty free.”

“That sounds perfect,” said Ayane, breaking out into a grin. “We can go have some time together then.”

“Ah, right, also,” said Emma as she scrolled down further, “Ryouta will be showing up later in the week for his art show, so we’ll have to plan with that in mind too.”

Ayane made a displeased face. “Oh. Right.”

“Sorry,” said Emma, glancing back up and wincing. “Uh, I guess that’s a bit of an awkward topic.”

“No, well, yes, but whatever,” said Ayane with a sigh. She paused briefly, before giving Emma a mischievous smile. “I’ll just have to make the best out of the time we have alone, right?”

“I, uh, w-well,” stammered Emma as she froze and flushed bright red.

“Heh, sorry,” giggled Ayane, blushing a little as well. “You’re fun to tease is all. I don’t really mean it.”

“Bah,” huffed Emma. She grimaced and rubbed her nose awkwardly. “But well, you know, it’s probably something we should talk about anyway.”

“What?” asked Ayane, recoiling. “That— I-I mean, that was a joke. I wasn’t actually going to try and do… do that to you before we’d even officially started dating.”

“I know, but, well, we’re redeploying soon,” said Emma, “and, like, the life expectancy isn’t exactly high for us, you know? I just figure, if you’re not totally opposed—”

“Oh Goddess,” groaned Ayane, covering her face in horror. “Oh Goddess, Emma, why would you—”

“It’s a reasonable thought!”

“But—!”

“Look, you know as well as I do that half the girls in training were totally doing it.”

“I-I guess,” said Ayane, peeking out at Emma between her fingers. “But why are you bringing this up now? We don’t redeploy for like, weeks.”

Emma shrugged uncomfortably. “Well… I went to the Cult of Hope a few days ago, to visit the Ribbon. You know what I’m talking about?”

“Yeah,” Ayane said, raising a curious eyebrow. “The one that they say was given to Homura by the Goddess, right?”

“Yeah. Well, I had a vision at the Ribbon earlier this week.”

Ayane’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Holy— wow.”

“Yeah, well I don’t remember the entire thing,” said Emma, speaking quickly before Ayane could bombard her with questions, “but what I do remember is about how I die.”

Ayane blanched. “What, really? Oh Goddess, that’s horrible.”

“It’s— well, I mean, I been trying not to think about it too much, you know?” said Emma, looking away and rubbing her nose awkwardly again. “But, well, it’s a weird way to get to the topic, but since it’s come up, I guess I just… I’m not sure how long I’ll be alive, right, and… and uh…”

“You want to try and, er, live life to its fullest?” asked Ayane.

Emma flushed more. “S-something like that.”

“I m-mean,” said Ayane, also looking away awkwardly. “I— I guess, we can um, we can see how it goes? I’d rather not um, you know, decide too early, if you get what I mean?”

“Yeah I do!” said Emma quickly. “Yeah that’s fine, I guess I just wanted to float the idea was all.”

“So… we’re good on that front?”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

“Good,” said Ayane with obvious relief. “So, um, can you tell me more about your vision?”

“I… would rather tell you in person, instead of over vid-call,” said Emma. She fiddled with the cords of her hoodie. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry. Can I ask why, though?”

“Oh, it’s just that, like, it’s a bit of a topic,” said Emma. “It feels weird telling you over vid-call. Feels… wrong, somehow.”

“I get that,” said Ayane, nodding understandingly. “Kind of, um, irreverent?”

“A little.”

“Well, tell me when I get here?” asked Ayane.

“Yeah, after dinner, for sure,” said Emma. She glanced at her chronometer. “It looks like I need to go though. My patrol’s debriefing is at three, since we have a lot of young girls who have to get to class in the mornings.”

“Oh, right, you should get going then,” said Ayane. She gave Emma a smile. “See you soon! Bye!”

Emma smiled back.

“Bye!”


	6. Coffee and Baklava

Debriefing has been slow and arduous, as a matter of course. Fortunately, it seemed that at least half of the young girls knew how the process went, and that made things go smoother. Mikoto could be counted in with that number, something that Emma was quietly proud of.

The debriefing was dismissed with little commentary, and Emma had headed to the VR Lab to do combat drills with Vivianne and Shoshana. All three of them were experienced enough to have a good general understanding of how these things went, and it was largely a matter of getting used to each other. That process took time, inevitably, but there was no reason for them to drill endlessly as if they were deploying to combat. They ended the sim after an hour and a half of subjective time. Vivianne had immediately invited Emma to a party, but she had politely declined. A text from Anna had arrived during the drills asking if Emma had any free time that afternoon. Emma had replied in the affirmative.

Anna and Ayumi were meeting at Zeus Research Center, where Ayumi worked. The building was just next door to the Church of Hope, towering high above like the skyscraper it was. Emma had expected to be told to go up to the top of the building and the almost-obligatory chuen there, but Ayumi had said to meet them at the ground floor.

“Hey Emma, you’re still coming right?” Ayumi texted as Emma walked down the front stairs of the Church.

“Yeah, I’m on my way,” Emma replied.

“Where are you now?”

“Just leaving the Church.”

“Alright, I’ll meet you outside then.”

Emma raised an eyebrow as she placed her hands in her hoodie’s pockets and kept walking. It seemed a little unusual that she wouldn’t wait for Emma inside, especially since Ayumi had always been the more cool-headed person in the little group Emma, Anna, and Ayumi had formed in school.

Well, Ayumi had seemed relatively excited about her new job at Zeus. Maybe she was still just on that kick.

The entrance to Zeus Research was surprisingly unadorned. While the Church of Hope was akin to a cathedral from ancient times, Zeus Research Institute was seemingly no different from any skyscraper in Mitakihara. The only notable feature was how the first ten floors seemed to be paneled only with shining polyglas, with the rest of the floors possessing windows framed in masonry. Like many particularly large and important buildings, the ground floor facade was stylized, in this case with a set of pseudo-Greco-Roman columns standing beside plain sliding doors. A wide patio of terracotta tiles and marble slabs with a short series of shallow steps led up to the doorway, where Ayumi was standing, leaned up against one of the columns.

“Hey Emma,” said Ayumi. She was wearing a white polo shirt, tucked into khaki slacks and paired with brown, closed toe shoes made of polished leather. She bobbed restlessly on her toes as she waved Emma over.

“Hey Ayumi,” said Emma, waving one hand as she walked up the steps. “What’s up? You seem more excited than usual.”

“Do I?” asked Ayumi. She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and smiled sheepishly. “Uh, well, I guess the excitement hasn’t worn off yet.”

Emma shrugged. That seemed about right. “How are things going?”

“Well,” said Ayumi. “Nothing too crazy. How about you?”

“I’m alright,” said Emma, shrugging again. “I had a demon hunt this morning, but it was pretty routine. You do anything fun?”

“I got a few good jobs, but most of it was kind of routine too,” said Ayumi. “No big changes since we talked last week.”

“Ah,” said Emma, nodding in faux-wisdom. “What’s that saying again? Something Chinese about interesting times?”

“I think you’ve got it confused,” said Ayumi with an amused expression. “That’s the curse of unending bad fortune.”

“Oh, right.”

The two girls shared a moment’s laughter.

“Ah, I’ve missed you, Emma,” said Ayumi.

“Yeah, you told me that last week,” said Emma with a grin. “Life’s boring without me, yeah?”

“Yeah,” said Ayumi. She sighed. “It’s too bad you’ll be leaving eventually.”

“Hey, we have time,” said Emma. “Is Anna already here?”

“No, she’s running a little late,” said Ayumi. She nodded towards the doors. “We can head in though, if you want, she knows our usual spot.”

Emma gave her a questioning look. “I feel like you’ve got something up your sleeve.”

“Well, this is your first time coming to Zeus right?” Ayumi said, grinning. “There is a bit of a party trick I think you’ll enjoy.”

“Right…”

Emma stepped past her, giving Ayumi a skeptical look, then turned back around and stopped.

The first floor atrium was ten stories tall. The windows— which, from outside, were merely ten stories of polyglas paneling —turned out to be a subtle sort of one-way mirror and lit the atrium as if the Sun’s light was filtered through forest leaves. All along the perimeter, low couches of slate-gray leather bracketed varnished wood tables, spaced wide enough apart that no one conversation would interfere with its neighbors. The floor was made of craggy marble, streaked through with dark veins and intentionally left unfinished. At either side of the main entrance, two sections of the atrium had been cordoned off for visitor information and souvenirs.

In the center of all this was a colossal oak tree, spanning nearly the entire atrium and brushing the ceiling. Its trunk was over two meters across, with roots that seemed to grow into and through the marble floor.

“What the hell,” Emma said.

“It’s cool isn’t it?” asked Ayumi, poking Emma in the back to make her get out of the doorway. “I said the same thing when I showed up for my interview.”

“Is it real?”

“Yes. Also magical,” said Ayumi. She led Emma towards the tree and pointed up at the branches. “See how they’re glowing, just a little? During the day you can’t see it that well, but during the night it actually is enough light to read a tablet easily.”

Emma squinted. The tree limbs and leaves did indeed shimmer with an ever-shifting rainbow of colors. New growth, by now starting to mature, glowed the brightest, while the oldest branches seemed to vibrate with magic. It almost felt like the tree had a soul gem to Emma, though that was of course impossible.

“It’s enchanted then, I assume?” Emma said. “To make it grow this big, quickly?”

“And to keep it permanently healthy, grow through the floor, and on and on,” said Ayumi, nodding. “It’s a masterpiece of enchantment, made by an entire team of Zeus’ most accomplished magical girls.”

“Is it permanent?”

“Yep.”

“Is it just enchanted for aesthetics, or does the tree do other things too?”

“As far as I know, it’s just aesthetics,” said Ayumi. “It’s also just super intricate and inherently unstable, so it’s a pretty big achievement.”

Emma nodded. She turned and grinned at Ayumi. “It’s pretty cool, I agree. I should bring Mikoto here some time to check it out.”

“Heh, sure, sounds reasonable,” said Ayumi. “I’ll send you a list of days we’re open to the public, and you guys can come see some of the cooler stuff we do.”

“Sure.”

“But we should get going,” Ayumi said, flushing a little. “I uh, actually did tell someone I’d meet them at the café we’re going to, and I don’t want to be late.”

Emma raised her eyebrow again, but shrugged. “Sure, let’s get going.”

Ayumi almost skipped as she set off, holding herself back just enough to affect the cool demeanor she usually carried. Emma watched, bemused, as Ayumi kept up a quiet commentary as they walked through the Atrium and into the first floor of Zeus Research Center.

The offices they passed were apparently dedicated to ZRC Procurement and Requisitions, Ayumi’s department. Access was granted through implant based digital keys, with visitors automatically keyed to the person responsible for them. All Emma could see from the hallway was the silhouettes of things moving back and forth behind frosted glass. Her TacComp informed her that the glass was bulletproofed up to anti-materiel rifle rounds, with a variety of hidden magical components that were unwise to test. The hallway itself was unremarkable, and lit with lamps tuned to match the outside sun.

“You’re very quiet,” Ayumi said as they reached an intersection and turned left. “Is something bothering you?”

“No?” Emma asked, scratching her cheek. “I don’t talk that much, do I?”

“Well, the only time you’ve been this quiet is when you’ve been ignoring me in favor of a football game,” said Ayumi. She gave Emma an appraising look. “But you don’t seem like you’re watching a game. Usually you make weird expressions.”

“I do not make weird expressions when watching games on my implants,” said Emma with a mulish frown. “I’m totally capable of keeping my face absolutely still!”

“Uh huh,” said Ayumi skeptically. “Which explains why you got kicked out of class, what, twenty times in the semester before you left?”

“Eighteen and that was completely unrelated!”

“Uh… huh.”

“Ayumi!”

“Anyway, here we are,” said Ayumi, waving an arm at their surrounds. It was a small place, mostly taken up by plastered brick walls, and opening out onto a terracotta tiled veranda. Wooden tables and chairs were scattered about the veranda in an artfully messy way. Customers, ranging in apparent age from eight to twenty-eight, ordered at a counter, then sat down. A drone served them a few minutes later.

“This is the Thunderhead Café,” said Ayumi. “We’re in the ‘official’ one, but there are stands scattered throughout the building. The restaurant serves handmade Greek food, but they have a synthesizer in the back if you really insist. And I believe… ah there he is!”

The table Ayumi set out towards was occupied by a boy their age, wearing a simple outfit of dress shirt with black trousers. Emma’s nomenclator displayed his name as “Giovanni Fabbro”, and noted that he was a production AI specializing in small batch, high precision manufacturing. On second glance, Emma spotted the I/O tattoo across Giovanni’s iris. His eyes and hair were a deep black that shimmered silvery-gray in the sun as he stood to greet Ayumi.

“You haven’t been waiting too long, Gio-k—Giovanni?” asked Ayumi, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear as she spoke. Emma narrowed her eyes slightly. Was Ayumi blushing?

“No, no, I only just got here,” said Giovanni, smiling broadly and pushing his hands into his pockets. Emma was fairly certain he was blushing too, but the lighting made it difficult to tell. “I had a few simulations to run anyway.”

“Ah, jeez, did I pull you away from work—?” Ayumi was definitely blushing.

“No no no, it’s fine, I have subprocesses that can take care of it!” Giovanni quickly reassured, waving his hands. “It’s fine, don’t worry.”

“Well, alright,” said Ayumi. She went to brush her hair back again, then stopped and pulled her hand down behind her back. “Ah, I should introduce you two. Giovanni, this is Emma Sinclair. She used to be my classmate back in school. Emma, this is Giovanni Fabbro. He’s one of the production AIs who works in our machine shop.”

“Hello!” said Giovanni, waving. “It’s nice to meet you, Sinclair-san!”

“Same to you,” said Emma, nodding back. “You two work together?”

“Yes, that’s right,” said Giovanni as a serving drone flew over with a tray full of food. “Ayumi’s part of Logistics Group Four. They deal with the labs that have wide-ranging needs, so I end up working with them a lot.”

“What do you guys work on?” Emma asked as the drone laid a tiny cup of coffee in front of her. The liquid was so dark, it seemed to look more like deep space than a beverage. Emma gave it a cautious sniff before she continued. “Ayumi’s in Procurement, I thought?”

“Yes,” said Giovanni. “Procurement and Requisitions actually encompasses the Zeus Research Machine Shop, which is where I work. The research labs in Zeus have a lot of different requirements, and often there’s nothing available that matches those requirements. When that happens, the requisition ticket gets passed to me or one of the other machinists.”

Emma nodded and contemplated the coffee. She could only imagine it was produced by carefully distilling a mug of coffee into a shot glass, perhaps with one of the percolators that had been in secondary school chemistry. She wasn’t entirely sure it was safe to drink it.

Eh, well, her implants could deal with it.

“Have you worked on anything interesting recently?” Emma asked as she picked up her cup. The smell was making her nose itch.

“Well, they’re all usually interesting,” said Giovanni. “I recently was asked to make a sword out of carbon-fiber and epoxy sandwiching a very thin sheet of battlecruiser armor. That was a strange build, but kind of fun.”

Emma took a sip of the coffee and suppressed a horrified spit-take. It was impossibly bitter. The sugar and creamer immediately slid themselves over.

“What was the sword for?” Emma asked as she dropped two sugar cubes into the small glass of coffee and began stirring.

“Ah, well, it was a very unusual experiment,” said Giovanni. He gestured with a hand to make a hologram of the sword appear in miniature over the table. “Apparently, it was an attempt to see if it was possible to enchant a slab of industrial material into an actual weapon usable by magical girls. Have you heard anything from the Lu Lab since, Ayumi?”

Ayumi shook her head and swallowed a mouthful of cheese. “No. They haven’t sent another requisition down yet though, so they must be having some success.”

“Or they’ve gotten distracted.”

Ayumi sighed. “Yes, well, we must have realistic expectations about the Lu Lab.”

Emma blinked as Ayumi and Giovanni chuckled to themselves. Clearly, there was some sort of inside joke she wasn’t a part of. She took the moment to stir a bit of cream into her coffee and take another sip. Much better.

A text from Anna blinked across Emma’s interface. She had arrived at Zeus and would be there in a few minutes.

“Have you started classes yet, Emma?” asked Ayumi after she had finished laughing. “You said you were going to take some when we met last week.”

“My schedule’s not yet settled, but I’ll probably start within the next few days,” said Emma. She tugged a small plate towards her with her magic and contemplated the baklava plated nearby. It seemed to be drizzled in some sort of fragrant syrup. “How do you eat that?”

“You accept the fact that it will be a mess and pick it up with your fingers,” said Ayumi. “The best part is licking the syrup off.”

Emma paused as she suddenly imagined Ayane licking syrup off her fingers, and then abandoned the train of thought as quickly as possible.

“Right, anyway,” Emma said as she ordered the plate of baklava to scoot itself towards her. “All of my classes are doable in time-dilated sim, so they shouldn’t take too much time.”

“Will you still be taking Mikoto around the city?” Ayumi asked, scooping a few olives out of a bowl and putting them on her plate. “Or has she started classes already?”

“She started today,” said Emma. The baklava stuck to itself, forcing Emma to use both hands to pry it apart and transfer it hurriedly to her plate. Her plate scooted itself back to Emma as she sat back and sucked the syrup off of her fingers. It tasted of roses and honey.

“Hey everyone!” Anna called out as she hurried up to the table. Her heels clicked against the tiles. “Sorry for being late, the meeting was hell.”

“It’s fine,” said Ayumi. “I hope you don’t mind that we started without you.”

“No, no, of course,” said Anna, taking a seat and accepting a cup of coffee from a serving drone. “Hey Emma, glad you could come.”

“Hey Anna,” said Emma, smiling at her sister. “You’re alright then?”

“Yeah, yeah, just people being idiots,” said Anna, sipping her coffee straight. “Worked out in the end though, just needed a little patience.”

Emma chuckled. “This is why you’re the one in business and not me.”

“God knows you’d have smacked their heads together,” said Anna, smiling over the rim of her cup. “How are things with you?”

“Good enough. Went on a demon hunt today, had a few team exercises.”

“Routine then?” Anna asked as she called a serving platter of goat cheeses and marmalades towards her.

“Yeah. Pretty boring to be honest, and I didn’t have much planned until later.”

“Ah, yes, that date you failed to mention to any of us,” said Anna, smiling smugly as Ayumi’s eyebrows shot up. “I suppose Emma hasn’t told you either, Ayumi?”

“Emma’s dating someone?” Ayumi asked incredulously. “My God I thought the day would never come? Who is he?”

“She’s a magical girl actually,” said Emma, sipping from her coffee with a miffed expression and fighting off her blush.

“Oooh, really?” asked Ayumi. “So it’s true that making a contract turns you gay?”

“It does not turn you gay,” said Emma with a disbelieving look at Ayumi. “Where the hell did you hear that?”

“It’s just a rumor the non-contracted around here toss around,” said Ayumi, raising her hands placatingly. “Well, sort of a rumor. More like a joke.”

“Some joke,” Emma snorted, downing her coffee and eyeing her baklava. “In any case, she’s taking the train and showing up around dinner, so I figured I’d take her out somewhere.”

“Well make sure to take her shopping,” said Anna pointedly. “You still haven’t ordered any formal wear for the art show we’re going to later this week.”

“Is that the one with Ryouta Shizuki?” asked Giovanni.

“Yes, how do you know about it?”

“Well, I follow art and design blogs with some of my subprocesses,” said Giovanni, looking vaguely embarrassed. “It helps for some of the things I’m asked to do for the labs here. If you’d like, I could design something for you?”

Emma raised an eyebrow and glanced at Anna, who looked thoughtful.

“Won’t you need more time for that sort of thing?” Ayumi asked skeptically. “We’ve still got work to do, after all.”

“Oh it’s just some milling,” said Giovanni. “I’ve already finished most of it!”

Ayumi made a displeased face. “You’re going to only get part of it done and I’ll have to stay overnight to help you. Again.”

“Yes, but think of it this way,” said Giovanni with a conspiratorial grin, “if that’s the case, then you’ll get to help me design more clothes! It’ll be fun!”

Ayumi made another displeased face and tried very hard to pretend she wasn’t blushing. “You say that now, idiot…”

“So, you two designing clothes together is a regular thing is it?” asked Emma, drily, propping her head up on one hand. “You know, Ayumi, you’ve been blushing an awful lot during this conversation. Is there something we should know?”

“Emma!”

“I can see how that would work,” said Anna consideringly. “Though it’s a little difficult, since Giovanni’s an AI.”

“May as well try for it,” said Emma with a bland expression as she drank her coffee.

“Seriously though, do consider it,” Giovanni said to Emma as Ayumi combusted in the background. “If you can tell me by later this evening, we can work something out over VR.”

“Are you sure?” asked Emma. “I don’t want to be too much trouble.”

“No, no, like I said, it’ll be fun!”

“Well, alright then,” said Emma as she carefully picked up her baklava. “I’ll think about it and get back to you.”

Emma bit into her baklava with a crunch. The syrup tasted of tangerines.

“Thanks.”


	7. Trains, Trinkets, and Dinner

Dates were difficult things to dress for.

Emma wasn’t entirely sure why she kept thinking about this, but it was certainly true. She didn’t own any dresses or skirts, and Goddess forbid she start wearing those for something as trivial as picking up Ayane from the train station. They had plans, yes, and these plans were certainly of a date-like nature, but they had time between Ayane’s arrival and any actual activities to change, if indeed that was necessary. Which, well, going to a fancy restaurant had seemed sort of overblown for the two of them, since they’d been fighting together for a long time already, so Emma hadn’t made any reservations for any place in particular. There were a few bars they could wander around to that might need them to change, but maybe it would be best to take it more slowly at first? But then if they did that it was probably best for Emma to just wear her usual clothing since, well, it just wasn’t necessary, and she didn’t want to make Ayane feel out of place.

Emma sighed and kicked a foot against the floor of the Arrivals Lounge. The room wasn’t much of a lounge, with only generic, rigid-backed benches arranged in a block in the center. It opened at one end to the train platforms and connected directly to the Departures Lounge and Ticketing Area on the other. A mural was painted across the walls depicting some sort of magical girl scene, which contributed slightly to offsetting the room’s otherwise monotonous appearance. It was clearly not a place that the designers had imagined anyone would spend any significant amount of time in.

In hindsight, showing up as early as she had was probably a bit overkill.

Emma was sitting in the first row of benches, near the right edge. It had seemed just as good as any other place in the lounge, though now she wondered if it might have been better to stand, back against the wall somewhere. She wasn’t sure if that mattered.

She had ended up wearing a sort of variation on her usual clothes. Emma hadn’t done much with her pants, except switch out for a pair of jeans that showed off her legs a little more than usual. She had also gone with a dark red long-sleeved shirt that fit close to her body, extending to hug her hips from underneath a white t-shirt with black at the cuffs and the collar. Her customary hoodie was black as well, with white strings.

It was definitely bolder than Emma typically dressed herself. She didn’t want to overdo it, but it somehow seemed improper not to put at least a little effort in for Ayane. Hopefully she’d like it.

The room was relatively empty. Mitakihara’s train station was mostly used by commuters to get to the surrounding cities. It was usually busy, since people were up at all hours working on things, but traffic slowed down around meal times, since everyone was busy eating instead of going places. For the unlucky souls that did end up traveling during meal times, the trip was usually short enough to not be too much of an impediment.

The sound of shoes clicking against the floor made Emma look up hurriedly. She had half risen from her seat before she realized it was just another commuter.

The lack of people, unfortunately, made it easy for Emma to dwell on her thoughts. She really hoped she wasn’t being weird. Or that she was forgetting something. Were there special rules Emma should have looked up about this sort of thing? Maybe she should have brought flowers? No, that was one of those cheesy romantic things that only happened in vids. But maybe…

Emma made a bothered noise and fiddled with her hoodie’s strings. Getting to the station extra early was definitely a mistake. But being late would probably have been worse.

Emma’s plans for the evening were actually very open. She wasn’t terribly sure what was appropriate and what wasn’t. She had a list, at least, of possible things to do. There were several vids playing in theaters that Emma knew Ayane would probably like. There were also some neat VR lounges that had special packages for couples, which was probably valid for Emma and Ayane. Emma planned to talk it through with Ayane when she got here, which according to Emma’s implants was actually about now.

A wave of butterflies went through Emma as she fidgeted in her seat. Honestly it was a little ridiculous how nervous she was getting. This was Ayane after all. It would be more reasonable to be nervous about meeting Ryouta, or something. Rationally speaking, Emma should be quite calm about the whole thing.

Then again, if she was rational about everything, she’d be making contracts, not in one.

“Hey Emma!” Ayane texted, the message popping up in the corner of Emma’s vision. “I’ve just got here. I’ll be out in a few minutes, where are we meeting?”

“I’m in the Arrivals Lounge,” Emma texted back.

“Oh, okay. Give me just one moment!”

Emma swallowed and got up to pace in a swift circle before sitting back down again. Goddess, nerves were terrible things to have. She would have had her TacComp use some emotional suppression, if it weren’t also incredibly lame to do so.

The sound of feet made Emma look up. The train’s occupants emerged from the platform and streamed around her towards the exits. One of them paused, then came over.

Ayane had thankfully worn clothing in the same vein as Emma. She was wearing a wavy, dark brown skirt with white lace across the bottom. Its hem was just short enough that Emma found herself briefly distracted before hurriedly looking away. A white t-shirt, with an amber-yellow hummingbird screen printed into the bottom right corner, hugged Ayane’s body, emphasizing the curve of her hip just before the shirt ended. Her hair was done up in her usual braid, and Emma could smell the slightest hint of some sort of perfume.

Emma thought she smelled tangerines.

“Hi,” said Emma.

“Hi,” said Ayane. Her luggage wheeled up behind her. “Um. I’m here, I guess.”

“Yeah,” Emma replied, nodding intelligently. “I— yeah. Hi.”

They stared at each other for a moment.

“I’m not actually sure what to do here,” said Emma, licking her lips. Her mouth suddenly felt very dry. “Everything I can think of is super cheesy.”

“Yeah, I can see you went without flowers,” said Ayane, glancing around Emma’s bench.

“Oh, er, no, I thought they’d be—”

“Cheesy, yeah,” said Ayane, giggling. “Do you have something planned? I already booked a hotel, and the station has a service that can send it ahead for me.”

“Well, I did have an idea to start with,” said Emma, grinning.

“Wow,” Ayane gasped as they stepped out of their transport tube. “This is fantastic!”

“Yeah, I figured we could start here,” said Emma as she led Ayane into the farmer’s market. It was situated on the roofs of several buildings, linked by wide overpasses lined with arbors of flowering vines. “There were a few different things I had in mind for after, but I figured we could decide when you felt like leaving?”

“Sure, that sounds fine,” said Ayane, looking around excitedly. “What’s that over there?”

Emma was pretty sure she felt Ayane use a little bit of magic to leap over to the stand and its small, blown glass figurines.

“Don’t you have any farmer’s markets in Osaka?” asked Emma as she jogged over with an amused grin.

“Oh sure,” said Ayane as she inspected the figurines carefully. It seemed the stand also sold necklaces. “But Mitakihara’s is totally different.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, the one in Osaka is mostly food,” said Ayane as she picked up a small bird necklace and gave it a considering look. Clear glass was formed around a small, blue marble that glittered in the sunlight. She held it up to her neck. “What do you think?”

Emma tilted her head to one side thoughtfully.

“It looks good on you,” she said with a smile. “Do you want it?”

“Yeah, why not?” said Ayane, turning back to the stand owner. “Can I—?”

“Your friend’s already paid for it,” the stand owner said with an air of amusement. “Thanks for your patronage.”

Ayane turned back to Emma, flushed. “Emma, you didn’t need to do that!”

“Well, I mean, I kind of did,” said Emma, shrugging.

“But we— you—!”

“Oh put on your necklace and get going,” said Emma, rolling her eyes. She reached out and took the necklace from Ayane. “Turn around.”

Emma received an extremely amused look from the stand owner as she fastened the necklace’s clasp behind Ayane’s neck.

“She looks nice, right?” Emma asked the stand owner.

“Absolutely,” said the shopkeeper. “I regret charging you full price for that now, you two are cute enough together to warrant a discount.”

“Oh Goddess,” groaned Ayane, hiding behind her hands again. “I can’t believe you’re doing this Emma.”

“Well honestly I’m not sure where I’m getting the confidence from,” Emma admitted, nodding in thanks to the stand owner as she took Ayane’s hand to continue walking through the farmer’s market.

“R-really?” asked Ayane as Emma led her off. “Your heartbeat is going pretty quick…”

“Maybe it’s just combat training helping me out,” Emma speculated. “Anything else catch your eye?”

As it turned out, many things caught Ayane’s eye. The farmer’s market was really more of an arts and crafts market, with a wide variety of expertly made wares available for purchase at somewhat alarmingly high prices. Even on Earth, where scarcity had supposedly been eliminated, there were some things that just weren’t that common. Even so, Emma and Ayane had a significant amount of pay saved up that neither had been able to spend until now, so cost wasn’t really an object. They had ended up being very popular with the shopkeepers and had to send a small stack of wares back to their respective residences.

“Do you want to get dinner?” Emma asked after the drones had departed with their packages. “I’m starved.”

“Let’s see what the food stands have to offer,” said Ayane. “I’ve been smelling them this entire time from a distance.”

“Sure,” said Emma, smiling at Ayane and taking the other girl’s hand again. “Anything you smell that’s particularly inviting?”

“You know, I think I smell yakitori,” said Ayane, flushing a little but smiling happily back at Emma. “Let’s get that, and maybe some… hmm… I think that’s taiyaki?”

Emma sniffed the air carefully. “…Yeah, I don’t know my Japanese food well enough. I’ll follow your lead.”

“Okay, then let’s go!” Ayane said cheerfully, taking the lead as the couple made their way towards the food stands. “Do you have any idea what to do after we eat?”

“Well, there’s a rec center in the area,” said Emma, swinging their entwined hands back and forth a little as they walked. “The place’s brochure says that they do little VR adventuring scenarios for couples to work through. Other than that, there’s also a few vids you might like that are playing in theaters.”

“Actually, could we go to the Church?” asked Ayane.

Emma blinked.

“Seriously? I thought you said you weren’t interested in religion?”

“Well, I wasn’t,” said Ayane. “But this vision you mentioned has me thinking, you know?”

“Ah,” said Emma, taken aback. “Well, uh, sure, I can show you around or something. Unless you want to, like, do a guided tour?”

“No, you showing me around is fine,” said Ayane. “And don’t forget that you promised to tell me about your vision.”

“Yeah, of course. After we visit the Church, I guess? We can go down to my room to talk.”

“Alright,” said Ayane. She seemed to go a little redder at the suggestion, but Emma wasn’t sure if it was because she was embarrassed or because of the convenient beam of sunlight that they passed through at that moment. “Anyway, we’re here. It looks like it is a yakitori stand.”

“An… all-natural yakitori stand?” Emma asked, looking over the signage. “What does that mean?”

“It means murder!” shouted the stand owner across the way. He seemed to be selling grilled tofu. “She—”

“Oh piss off you twatwaffle!” the yakitori stand owner shouted back. “If they head your direction you can proselytize your crock all you want!”

The tofu stand owner returned an obscene hand gesture but turned away in a furious silence.

“Sorry you had to see that, girls,” said the yakitori stand owner. “Name’s Ishikawa Chiyoko. Welcome to my yakitori stand.”

“Good evening, Miss Ishikawa,” Emma and Ayane said together, bowing slightly.

“You’re uh, very passionate,” said Ayane.

“Yes, well, I try not to be a dick about it,” said Chiyoko. “But yeah, I think it’s pretty important for us to remember what it used to be like to eat meat.”

“What does that mean?” Emma asked, feeling suddenly wary of the situation.

“Well when I say ‘all natural’, I mean that I raise and slaughter my own chickens,” said Chiyoko. She nodded as Emma and Ayane both blanched at the implications. “Yes yes, but hear me out. In my opinion, we, as a society, are too disconnected from what we eat. We push a button and don’t think about what we’re putting in our mouths. It’s just a bundle of calories and nutrients, and we may as well all just eat the ration bars the Military hands out in long sieges. Er, no offense.”

“None taken,” said Emma and Ayane.

“Thanks. So going down that route, I sought to find out what it really means to eat yakitori,” Chiyoko continued. “Like, we take these things for granted as Japanese people, right, but by eating all this synthesizer food, we don’t realize what food really is any more. In the Colonies it’s completely different, and they treat food with respect, because for a lot of them, they know where it comes from and what went into making it.”

Emma gave Ayane a vaguely distressed look, but found that the other girl was nodding along.

“I see what you mean,” said Ayane. “I’m a biologist by training, with a focus on migratory birds, so I’ve seen a lot about the food chain and energy cycles. If you think about it, modern society on Earth is actually super wasteful. It just gets recycled much better these days than it ever did in the ages past.”

“Exactly! Our understanding of the food we eat and how it gets to our plate is so much more limited than it was even in the 2000s or during the Unification Wars. It’s important to reconnect to that.”

Emma coughed. “Er, I’m not sure I follow,” she said. “Why is that so important?”

“Well, think about where we come from,” said Chiyoko. She gestured at the space around them. “We’re a technological society, yeah? Where does all this come from?”

Emma blinked and looked about awkwardly. “Er, a factory?”

“No, it comes from the Earth,” said Chiyoko, pointing downwards vigorously. “Or rather, the planets and asteroids of the universe that we harvest raw materials from, made by stars that forged the same elements that exist in us. All of us are made of matter, and the biological processes that sustain us are near accidents created by circumstance.”

“O-okay?”

“In the face of this,” continued Chiyoko. “We cannot claim that we are somehow divorced from the cycles that surround us. The wind and the rain that we say we control are natural processes, processes that we merely believe to be things we understand. Your friend— sorry what’s your name?”

“Nakamura Ayane.”

“Nakamura-san can attest that even for all we claim to know, there is yet so much more we do not even know we do not know. For us as a society to try and become more… more artificial and to ignore these processes is to fail to understand the very nature of Life, and the pursuit of it. It is absolutely necessary that we find again these processes and allow ourselves to be part of them, even a little, so that we may understand what it truly means to be Human, and to be Alive.”

“W-what does that have to do with food though?” Emma asked cautiously. Ayane was carefully running her thumb across the top of Emma’s hand in a soothing gesture.

“It is difficult to understand wind and rain,” said Chiyoko, “or the passage of birds and animals, or the workings deep within the Earth’s mantle. Through careful study, some of us who choose to do so can of course learn many things, but the rest of us cannot grasp these things.”

Chiyoko placed her hands on the counter before her, leaning forward now in excitement. Emma instinctively leaned away.

“But food!” Chiyoko said rapturously. “Food on the other hand, we all can experience equally! Of course, there are those who have talent who can experience on a deeper level, but even the layman can understand a piece of chicken which is delicious and tender versus a piece of chicken that has no substance and is overcooked. The small differences, any set of tastebuds can comprehend. It is this very basic thing that I sought to bring to everyone, but I realized I had to go deeper. Just the taste and texture of a food is not the core of our society’s disconnect, after all. What matters is the cycle of life and death that we have divorced ourselves so distantly from. And so I resolved that I must raise my own chickens, feed them food that is healthy for them and raise them carefully, to be happy and free chickens, and then, when the time came, to slaughter them humanely and personally. To take responsibility for the food that I eat and that I serve, and by doing so reconnect myself and my customers to the greater universe around us.”

Chiyoko leaned back, the area around them oddly silent.

“Are we sure she’s not crazy?” Emma muttered to Ayane over telepathy.

“It makes some sense to me,” Ayane replied. “Don’t discount her too much.”

Emma struggled to maintain a normal facial expression and nodded. “I uh, I see. I think.”

“You should come down to the farm to see more clearly,” said Chiyoko. “The chickens are raised in pasture. I work with a number of other growers who raise cattle and such, and we’re able to imitate fairly closely an entire ecosystem on the property we’ve rented from Governance. Just seeing it all would be good for you, I’ve even had a number of people come down and kill a chicken. It’s really a transformative experience.”

“I uh, I’ve had a few of those recently,” said Emma. “I’ll um, pass for now, I think.”

“Could we buy some yakitori though?” said Ayane. “It really smells great.”

“Absolutely!” said Chiyoko. “Just two skewers, or do you want to do a meal each?”

“What’s in a meal?”

“You get two skewers with a bowl of egg yakisoba and a drink,” said Chiyoko. She shrugged apologetically. “It’s not fancy, but the goal is to let the ingredients show through.”

“Alright, then—” Emma and Ayane said simultaneously.

“Oh, sorry,” said Emma. “Go ahead.”

“Oh I was going to say, two meals please,” said Ayane. Emma paled minutely.

“Very cool, I’ll have those right up for you,” said Chiyoko. “You can pick a drink from the dispenser over here.”

Ayane almost skipped over to the drinks dispenser. “It’s really very interesting, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, sure,” Emma said dimly.

Ayane turned. “What’s wrong?”

“I just… I’m not sure I can eat meat that’s been slaughtered,” said Emma, making a disturbed expression.

“Oh, jeez, I’m sorry, Emma,” Ayane said with a wince. “I can ask her to make something else really quick, I bet—”

“It’s fine,” said Emma, swallowing. “I… well it’s nothing like combat, so I’ll just deal with it.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Look, if I can’t handle it, you can just eat my skewers,” said Emma. “I can handle the eggs easy enough.”

“Okay…”

“Don’t worry about it, okay?” said Emma, stepping forward to pat Ayane’s shoulder comfortingly. “It’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, okay,” said Ayane, nodding. She turned back to the drink dispenser. “What do you want to drink?”

“Uh, how about iced barley tea?”

“Okay. I’ll have one too actually. Here you go.”

“Thanks.”

The two of them stood idly by the dispenser, sipping their teas. Emma found the drink pleasant, with a slightly different taste from synthesizer tea in a way she couldn’t quite place. She wasn’t sure if it was a placebo effect, but it was nice regardless.

“Here you go,” said Chiyoko, appearing again at the counter. “Two meals, ready and waiting. I made sure to cook the chicken rare for you two.”

“Thank you!” said Ayane as she scooped up the boxed meals. “Have a nice day!”

“You too!”

Emma and Ayane ignored the dirty looks the tofu stand owner sent their direction and went off to find a place to eat.

There were a variety of secluded gardens available in the area. They found one with a nice view of the city, near the edge of the roof and shrouded behind a series of arbors. Rose vines twined through the frames, reaching up and spreading out over the top of the arbor, shrouding Emma and Ayane in the scent of roses.

“This is nice,” Emma said, looking up at the flowers blossoming overhead. “I wonder if there are any in the Church.”

“Probably,” said Ayane. She smoothed out her skirt and handed one of the two boxes to Emma. “We should go look for one later.”

“It’d be nice, yeah,” Emma said thoughtfully. “The view probably isn’t as good though.”

“No, probably not.”

“Anyway, let’s eat,” said Emma. She looked down at the food in her lap and swallowed. “I uh… could you go first and tell me what it’s like?”

Ayane nodded, opening her box of food a little nervously. “The truth is, now that it’s here, I’m a little nervous myself,” she admitted.

“Ah, yeah, that’s understandable…”

The smell of the food drifted up and around them.

“It smells a little different,” said Emma, leaning over to peer at the food. The two skewers of meat had been brushed with some sort of sauce that had cooked to a shimmering amber, while the edges of each cube of meat had browned into a deep, dark brown. “Looks just like normal yakitori though.”

“I think they used miso instead of soy for the tare sauce,” said Ayane, picking up one of the skewers and giving it another sniff. “You’re right, it smells a little like grass.”

“That’s kind of weird.”

“Well I mean, green tea smells a little like grass.”

“True.”

“Anyway, let’s see how it tastes,” Ayane said. She took a deep breath, then bit into the first piece of meat.

“…this is really good.”

“Really?” Emma asked as Ayane swallowed and took another bite of yakitori. “It’s not just the uh, the implant modifications acting up?”

“No, no, it really is good,” said Ayane brightly. “The sauce is light and sweet, and the crust from the sear is really uniform and just dark enough to be tasty without being dry or charred.”

Emma blinked. “You seem to know a lot about this sort of thing.”

“Ah, well, everyone’s like this in Osaka,” said Ayane, flushing a little.

“Don’t they say you’re supposed to eat till you drop in Osaka?” Emma asked with a teasing grin. “I guess you must have been pretty good at that before you contracted.”

“It’s a cultural thing, okay?” Ayane said, going deeper red and looking away.

“Okay,” said Emma, grinning more broadly and turning to her own food. “If you say so.”

Ayane stuck her tongue out at Emma. “Mleh!”

“Anyway, I guess I should try this out,” Emma said as she opened her box. She picked up a skewer and looked at carefully. “It looks so normal.”

“It’s just like regular chicken,” said Ayane. “Just with a different recipe, maybe.”

“I guess,” said Emma. She licked her lips nervously and took a deep breath. “Well, down the hatch, I suppose.”

The first bite was both better and worse than Emma had expected. On the one hand, it was definitely well made, and if nothing else the texture and aroma were excellent. On the other, the dysgeusia from when she’d first gotten her military implants seemed to be back in full force. It was probably psychosomatic, but Emma couldn’t reasonably enjoy it knowing exactly what it was that she was eating.

“Goddess, that’s…” Emma said, grimacing as she swallowed. “That’s unique.”

“Have another bite, seriously,” encouraged Ayane. “It was a little weird for me the first bite, but it really does taste different the second time.”

“I’m not sure that’ll work for me,” Emma said sheepishly. “Maybe I should just give my skewers to you…”

“No don’t do that!” Ayane said quickly. “Just trust me, okay? Try closing your eyes, so you can focus just on the smell and the taste.”

“Er, but then I can’t eat,” Emma said. “I kind of need to see the skewer.”

“Well then I’ll help,” said Ayane firmly. She set her box of food aside and took the skewer from Emma’s hand. “Here, close your eyes.”

Emma felt herself go red. “Er— seriously?”

“Yeah! Trust me!”

“O-okay,” said Emma, swallowing. She put her box of food to the side and closed her eyes, her hands balled into tight fists on her knees.

“What are you so nervous for?” Ayane said into Emma’s ear as she slid over. “It’s just some chicken. Now open up.”

The second bite was completely different from the first. It came as a surprise, and maybe as a result of that Emma wasn’t able to think too hard about what she was eating. Her first taste was of the sauce and how it had been reduced and caramelized on the grill into a nutty, slightly sticky layer on the surface of the meat. Then came the flavor of the chicken itself, just a little more vibrantly “chicken-like” than the usual synthesizer recipe, and with a slight aftertaste of green tea.

“Wow, that’s amazing,” said Emma, opening her eyes and blinking. She turned to Ayane excitedly. “You’re right, it does taste different!”

“Just a little right?” asked Ayane. She grinned and pulled another piece of meat off the skewer. “Here, have another.”

Emma smiled back and opened her mouth obediently.

“You look like a little bird,” Ayane giggled as she popped the piece of chicken into Emma’s mouth.

“Should I make noises?” Emma asked as she chewed. “Though, maybe not. It’d be super embarrassing.”

“It wouldn’t be cute either,” said Ayane, handing Emma back her skewer and turning to pick up her food again. “Baby birds are actually super annoying. If I didn’t know better I’d use my powers to tell them to shut up.”

“Heh, doesn’t it work?” Emma asked as they began eating in earnest. “Isn’t your main power talking to birds?”

“Yeah, but baby animals only speak baby,” said Ayane with a miffed expression. “You’d think they’d at least shout ‘food’ or something, but it’s just loud babble.”

“That’s too bad,” said Emma, nudging Ayane gently. “But hey, you got flying powers too.”

“That’s true,” said Ayane, grinning back. “And I met you, which is good.”

“Bleh, that’s so corny,” Emma said. She bit into her yakitori and looked away to hide her blush. “…though I’m happy I met you too.”

Emma glanced over to see Ayane blush and break into a silly grin.

“Thanks.”

They continued eating in silence, looking out over the city.

“I should tell you about my vision,” said Emma as she finished her second skewer. She tossed the stick over the edge and toyed with her chopsticks. “If uh, you think this is a good time?”

“Sure,” said Ayane, blinking to attention and setting her food to the side. “As long as you’re comfortable with talking about it.”

“You can keep eating,” said Emma. She snapped open her chopsticks and poked at her yakisoba. “It’s like I said, I can’t remember all that much of it.”

“Is that normal?”

“Apparently so,” said Emma, shrugging. She picked up a bite of yakisoba and looked at it consideringly. “But Kyouko says that I should talk to people about it anyway.”

“Sakura Kyouko?” Ayane gaped. “She talked to you personally?”

“Oh sure, she’s head of the Theological Council after all,” said Emma. She took a bite of yakisoba. “Huh, that’s really good egg too.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Ayane said, taking her own bite of yakisoba. “Did Sakura-sama say anything in particular about your vision?”

“Not really,” said Emma with a shrug. “She just said that I should make sure to talk about it.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

“The… the big thing about my vision was about me dying,” said Emma. She took a deep breath and looked down at her food, suddenly no longer feeling hungry. “I don’t remember the exact words the Goddess said to me, but she said something. I saw two versions of myself standing in front of me. One version died in battle, the other I… I think she spiraled into despair.”

“That’s horrifying,” Ayane said, scooting over so that their hips were touching. She put her food down to place a comforting hand on Emma’s shoulder.

“It’s… it’s pretty freaky, yeah,” said Emma. She smiled slightly at Ayane. “It gets better with time, even if it’s only been like a day.”

“That’s good.”

“The Goddess said I had to choose,” said Emma, looking away towards the soaring view of Mitakihara. “But that in order to fulfill my wish, I had to use both hands.”

Ayane blinked. “That’s… really confusing.”

“Yeah,” said Emma. She put her food aside and looked down at her hands. “Just before the vision ended, I remember the one who died in battle grabbed my right hand, and the one who despaired grabbed my left hand. Maybe it has something to do with that?”

“Maybe,” said Ayane, rubbing Emma’s shoulder slowly. “I… think that maybe she’s trying to say you have to balance your life? That if you try too hard to be one or the other, you’ll end up failing?”

Emma nodded. “I can see that. I’m not sure how I’d do that though.”

“Maybe you’re not supposed to,” said Ayane. “I know it sounds weird, but my guess is that you’re supposed to do the best you can with what’s happening around you.”

Emma hummed thoughtfully but didn’t say anything. Maybe. It was funny how having different perspectives helped with this sort of thing. Then again, that was probably why Kyouko had wanted Emma to talk to her friends and family about her vision.

“Thanks,” said Emma, looking over to Ayane and smiling more fully. “For listening, I mean. It helps a lot.”

“Ah, well, it’s no big deal,” said Ayane, smiling back. “It’s only natural.”

“Still,” said Emma. She reached up to hold Ayane’s hand. “Thanks. Really.”

“W-well, you’re welcome,” said Ayane bashfully.

They paused. The moment stretched strangely, as if it had some secret significance that neither of them had quite picked up on.

“So uh, you’re supposed to kiss me right now,” said Ayane with a small, nervous laugh. “According to the soap operas at least.”

“Oh, er, am I?” Emma asked, hand tightening on Ayane’s. “I uh, well, if you want…?”

“You don’t have to,” said Ayane, leaning towards Emma slowly. “I just thought it was kind of funny.”

Emma leaned towards Ayane as well. “It’s pretty corny too.”

“Yeah it is. But that’s…”

“…a good thing?”

Emma could smell Ayane’s perfume. It definitely had tangerines in it.

“Yeah.”

Their lips met.


	8. New Developments

“So I was thinking,” Emma began as she and Ayane made their way, hand-in-hand, towards the public transit terminal.

“Oh Goddess, everyone take cover,” said Ayane, grinning at Emma jokingly. “Emma has ideas!”

“They’re not that bad!”

“Yeah yeah, I’m just joking. What were you thinking about?”

“Well I was thinking, it’s not super fair for you to come all the way out to Mitakihara,” said Emma, “especially since Tokyo is a nice place to visit too.”

“It’s no trouble for me,” said Ayane with a shrug. “Tokyo is a shorter commute, sure, but we have enough free time where it doesn’t matter that much.”

“I know, but for the sake of meeting regularly, it’s still easier.”

“Mm, that’s a good point,” said Ayane. She nodded thoughtfully. “Tokyo’s nightlife is supposed to be better than Mitakihara’s too. At least, so they say.”

Emma shrugged. “I have no idea about those things.”

“Honestly, I don’t either,” Ayane admitted. “But, well, we should check it out while we have the time. And it’ll get me away from my parents, which is always nice.”

“Are they really that annoying?” Emma asked.

“Yes,” Ayane sighed. “It wasn’t so bad on the first day, but I need space that they don’t want to give me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s fine,” said Ayane, sighing deeply. “I wish I could get my own apartment, but…”

“You don’t want to move to Mitakihara?”

“My parents would get all upset and I’d have to do some kind of huge speech to justify it,” Ayane said bitterly. “It’s not worth the trouble yet, not when I can just up and leave whenever I want to do whatever.”

“Is there a lot to do in Osaka?”

“Not really, to be honest,” said Ayane. “Well. There is, but not stuff that I’m into. I was always the weird bird girl, you know? I mean I like birds, so it’s fine, but I also didn’t really get out much as a result. I spent a lot of time in lab and doing work there.”

“And then you made your wish.”

“Yep,” said Ayane. She sighed again, looking a little melancholy. She perked up quickly. “Still, it wasn’t all bad.”

“Don’t you dare,” Emma immediately said, flushing. “We already had a cheesy moment back there.”

“Aww, is Emma embarrassed?” Ayane teased, pecking Emma on the check before subsiding. “Fair enough.”

They walked along in companionable silence for another moment.

“There’s one other thing I wanted to mention,” said Emma. “About um, Ryouta.”

“Oh, right, yes,” said Ayane. She looked bothered for a moment before her expression cleared. “Do you want to bring him to Tokyo too?”

“Well, I think he lives there now,” said Emma. “But uh, in terms of crazy ideas, do you think it would be reasonable to live with him when we’re visiting?”

Ayane made a face.

“Maybe if you want to, but I’d prefer not.”

“Okay, fair enough.”

“Honestly, I’m not sure why you’re doing… this,” said Ayane, waving her free arm vaguely. “Why didn’t you just pick one of us to date?”

“I’m… not actually sure,” said Emma. She sighed and rubbed her neck awkwardly. “I uh, should probably talk to someone about it.”

Ayane squeezed Emma’s hand comfortingly.

“You should,” said Ayane. “Obviously it doesn’t bother me too much, since I’m still here, but it’s probably for the best.”

“Okay,” said Emma, squeezing back. “Some other time though. Not now.”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks, by the way.”

“What for?”

“For putting up with me.”

Ayane smiled at Emma and, very quickly, stood on tiptoe to give her a kiss.

“Of course.”

Emma and Ayane arrived at the Church of Hope at the same time as Kyouko. The ancient was dressed in her ubiquitous casual outfit, conversing with another girl that Emma didn’t recognize.

“Well well, I see we’re both keeping busy,” said Kyouko as she glanced over Emma and Ayane. “Who’s this?”

“Ah, this is Nakamura Ayane,” said Emma, gesturing with her free hand while Ayane bowed nervously. “We’re, uh, sorting out our relationship at the moment actually. She was in my training cohort.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” said Kyouko, raising an eyebrow but keeping her peace for the time being. “Well, this is Ivanka Petrov. Ivanka and I have just come back from a wedding. Ivanka, this is Emma Sinclair.”

“Ah, you’re Kyouko’s latest student?” said Ivanka, reaching out and shaking Emma’s hand. “Kyouko was just telling me about it.”

“Er, sort of I guess,” said Emma, a little embarrassed. “It’s just some polearm lessons.”

“Still, Kyouko doesn’t teach everyone her tricks.”

“Nonsense, everybody can learn my tricks,” said Kyouko with a roll of her eyes. “I’ve got it all written down, you can download it.”

“Sure, sure, but it’s not the same,” said Ivanka. She batted her eyelashes at Kyouko. “You know what I mean.”

“Not today I don’t,” said Kyouko wryly. “Despite the rumors.”

“Ah well,” said Ivanka with a dramatic sigh. “Can’t win all of them.”

“Uh huh.”

“In any case,” said Ivanka. “What about you two then, Emma, Ayane? Are you turning in for the night?”

“Ah, not quite,” said Emma. “I promised Ayane a tour of the church.”

“Are you thinking about joining?” Kyouko asked.

“Maybe,” said Ayane, shifting nervously. “Emma told me about her vision, which was, um, convincing.”

“Ah yes, it often is,” said Kyouko. She paused thoughtfully. “How do you feel about a guided tour of the place? By me.”

“Oh jeez, this again,” said Ivanka, rolling her eyes with a sigh. She began climbing the steps of the church. “I’ll see you later, Kyouko.”

“They haven’t even accepted the offer yet,” Kyouko called out.

“They’d be fools to turn you down,” said Ivanka over her shoulder. “You’re Sakura Kyouko, one of the Mitakihara Four.”

“So?”

“So I figured this would happen when I decided to be a celebrity’s go-to plus-one,” said Ivanka, pausing at the top of the steps to give Kyouko a wry smile. She turned her gaze to Emma and Ayane. “You girls have fun with Kyouko okay? Not too much though.” Ivanka paused, just long enough to give Kyouko a look. “That’s my job.”

Kyouko, Emma, and Ayane were left speechless as Ivanka flounced into the church. After a moment, Kyouko clapped her hands and turned to the other two.

“Well, how about it?”

They accepted Kyouko’s offer, of course. If nothing else, Kyouko knew more about the church and the Cult than Emma did. Kyouko did her best to be a good host, turning on centuries of practiced charm. It was something of a whirlwind experience, ending, as was only proper, at the Hall of the Ribbon.

“It’s funny, actually, I’ve never had a proper vision here,” said Kyouko as they left the Hall after visiting the Ribbon. “You’d think I’d get more than the occasional snippet of conversation, but nope.”

“I guess I shouldn’t feel disappointed,” said Ayane with a small smile. “If even the great Kyouko-sama can’t wrangle some time with the Goddess.”

“Oh jeez, don’t call me that,” said Kyouko with a laugh. “You’ll make me feel old.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Kyouko-sama,” said Ayane, laughing as well. “But speaking seriously, what should I call you instead?”

“Kyouko is fine,” said Kyouko, waving an arm idly as she led them towards the church gardens. “It’s been ages since I was a proper Japanese girl, and the Cult’s never been big on formality anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“About the Cult?”

“No, about you not being a proper Japanese girl.”

“Oh, it’s just part of being an ‘Ancient’,” Kyouko said, shrugging as they entered the gardens. The lights from Zeus and Prometheus, gleaming from the windows of the still-awake and working late, cast the leaves and flowers in glittering shadows. “Back when the MSY was working from the shadows, you had to reinvent yourself every few decades. At some point I had to stop being Japanese, you know?”

“That’s kind of scary to think about,” said Ayane, wrapping her arms around herself. “It sounds like losing yourself.”

“Maybe,” said Kyouko. She reached out to run a finger over a rose blossom. “It does feel a little like that, the first time. It gets easier.”

“Must be nice now, though, not having to do that anymore.”

“It is,” said Kyouko. She came to a stop as they walked into a small copse of tall, flowering trees, arranged around a fountain. “It’s also been a big help to the MHD, since nonmagical family members are now no longer inevitably going to die.”

“If anything that’s been reversed,” Emma observed.

Ayane and Kyouko paused to stare at her.

“Sorry,” said Emma sheepishly. She ran a hand through her hair. “I mean, it’s just that there’s a lot of us who die these days, and the average non-contracted isn’t in the military.”

“I suppose,” Kyouko said slowly. “But, in any case, I was meaning to ask, Ayane, about what you and Emma have talked about regarding her vision.”

“Oh, well, just some stuff about the part at the end,” said Ayane, turning to look into the fountain. Some mechanical fish wandered around the bottom, swimming to the surface to look at Ayane with bulbous eyes. “We talked about what the Goddess might have been trying to tell Emma.”

“What did you conclude?”

“Well, my theory is that Emma is intended to try and balance things in her life,” said Ayane. “Even though she’s not a big fan of all that business stuff her family does.”

“I see. Was there anything else?”

“Not particularly,” said Ayane. “It’s kind of vague, because of the memory thing.”

“Yeah, it’s a problem,” agreed Kyouko. She sighed and tugged a small pebble into the air with telekinesis, floating it in front of her idly. “The Goddess seems to make a habit of things like that. Either the girl gets sworn to secrecy or she just doesn’t remember.”

Kyouko flicked a finger. The pebble flew through the air to land with a small plop in the water.

“This is a pretty romantic little spot, you know,” said Kyouko. She looked up at the canopy, and the small hole above the fountain between the branches. “The moon’s travel through the sky passes exactly over here once a year. We did the math back during construction. Of course, this means that everyone tries to get a date here on that day, making most people end up in the sim version of this place.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” said Emma.

“Anyway, I’ll not keep you any longer,” said Kyouko. She turned to go, slapping Emma on the shoulder. “Don’t stay up too late and miss practice tomorrow, okay? Ten o’clock, on the roof of the Church.”

“Understood,” said Emma with a nod. “Thank you.”

“This is a nice place,” said Ayane. She tapped on the surface of Emma’s desk, flicking idly through the vaguely Cult-themed default interface. “A bit small though.”

“Well, it’s not like I need much,” said Emma, handing Ayane a glass of water.

“That’s true,” said Ayane. She sipped her water. “I guess you’re either doing sim time or are out of the house, so there’s no need for anything extravagant.”

“Mmhm.”

“Are you going to bring Ryouta back here?” asked Ayane.

“I’m not sure,” said Emma. She sipped at her own glass of water. “He might want me to visit his apartment actually.”

“Why’s that?”

“It seems like the sort of thing a matriarchy would do,” said Emma, shrugging. “Meet the family and whatnot, right?”

“Hm, fair enough,” said Ayane. She sipped her water again, looking pensive.

“Why do you ask?”

“No real reason,” said Ayane. She poked at Emma’s desk again, setting her glass down while reading the summary for a text on fluid dynamics. “I guess I’m feeling a little possessive.”

Emma took Ayane by the elbow and pulled her into a hug. “Sorry.”

“It’s no big deal,” said Ayane, half turning to smile up at Emma. “I knew what I was in for when I signed up for this.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re obligated to some sort of contract.”

“No, but I want to see where this goes,” said Ayane. She turned around more fully in order to loop her arms around Emma’s waist and lean more fully against her. “You know what they say, right, about it being better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all?”

“Yeah,” said Emma, resting her chin on top of Ayane’s head. Their difference in height was really quite shocking. “Isn’t that a poem about someone dying though?”

Ayane hummed. “That’s true. Maybe I shouldn’t have quoted that.”

They paused. Emma carefully moved her hand in a circle to rub Ayane’s back, slowly breathing in the scent of tangerines. She was painfully aware of Ayane’s skin, lying just beneath the fabric of Ayane’s shirt. It suddenly occurred to Emma that if she moved her hand just a little further down, she could pull up the shirt’s hem and be able to touch Ayane’s skin directly.

“Does it seem hot to you?” Ayane whispered. Her voice wavered, just a little.

“A little,” Emma murmured into Ayane’s hair. “I think I have too many layers on.”

“Ah, well, you are wearing a hoodie,” said Ayane. She reached up to tug at the front of Emma’s jacket. “Maybe you should take it off?”

“Maybe,” said Emma. She shrugged her shoulders, letting the fabric slide off and down her arms. Ayane let go, allowing the jacket to fall to the ground.

A pause.

“…I’m going to admit, I’m not sure what to do next,” Ayane said. She giggled nervously. “It was a horribly fake line, I can’t believe you played along.”

“Well, uh, I mean, I figured I may as well,” said Emma, giggling as well. She licked her lips and pulled away, trailing her hand along Ayane’s arm to grab her hand. “Do you want to sit down?”

“Sure,” said Ayane, smiling. She was flushed in the cutest way.

Emma sat down on the edge of her bed, pulling Ayane towards her. Now Emma was lower down than Ayane, which made kissing much easier for the shorter girl. Slowly, Emma allowed herself to lean back onto her elbows, shifting backwards into a more comfortable position. The action pulled her away from Ayane.

“Is this okay?” Emma asked, a little breathlessly.

“Yes,” said Ayane, swallowing. She followed Emma onto the bed, climbing over until they were face to face and their bodies were just touching. Ayane was braced on her elbows, hovering above Emma and straddling Emma’s waist.

“This is strangely familiar,” said Emma. “Though the last time you did it, you had one of your daggers pointed at me.”

Ayane looked confused briefly, before rolling her eyes. “Melee practice doesn’t count.”

“No, I agree,” said Emma. She was acutely aware that Ayane didn’t wear leggings underneath her skirt. “So uh, do we have a plan here?”

“Not really,” said Ayane, licking her lips. “I was thinking some more making out was in order.”

“That seems reasonable.”

Ayane lowered herself down, allowing them to come flush against each other. It was a heady experience, coming all in a rush as they kissed again. It was scary, and exciting, and made Emma’s mind go a little fuzzy. It was like jumping off of a roof, with the same swooshing feeling in Emma’s stomach, except she didn’t know where the bottom was or how to land properly.

Then Ayane paused for air, which neither of them technically needed, but, in the end, probably wanted anyway.

“Well,” said Emma. She blinked, breathing out shakily. “…Well.”

“Yes, well,” said Ayane, licking her lips as she shifted a little awkwardly. “It uh, it looks like I got some drool on you.”

“Huh? Oh.”

Ayane moved back to let Emma wipe her cheek.

“Kissing is messier than I thought it would be,” Emma said as she wiped the drool onto the bed. “It’s… very wet.”

“Well it involves mouths, what did you expect?” asked Ayane, giggling. Emma let her hands fall onto Ayane’s legs as the other girl sat up more fully.

“I mean, I dunno,” said Emma, eyes wandering away from Ayane’s face. “It doesn’t look like that in vids.”

“They’re not exactly making out in vids, Emma,” said Ayane, her own eyes wandering.

“Not those vids. The other kind of vids.”

“Oh ho,” said Ayane with a grin. “You’re a healthy young lady then, Emma.”

“Come off it,” said Emma. She poked Ayane in the side teasingly, making the other girl yelp.

“Or get off, as it may be,” Ayane replied, rubbing her side.

“Aaah, Goddess!” Emma laughed, covering her face with her hands. “Stop teasing me!”

“Hehehe,” said Ayane. She rolled off of Emma with a flump and adjusted her skirt. “Oh Emma, you’re adorable.”

“I am not adorable,” said Emma. She poked Ayane in the side again.

“Stop it!” Ayane yelped as she rolled away, giggling. “I’m ticklish!”

“Is that so?” asked Emma. She chased after Ayane, quickly pinning her to the bed to run her fingers over Ayane’s sides and belly.

“Eek!” Ayane shrieked, curling into herself to try and hide. “Aaaaagetoffgetoff!”

Emma sat back, grinning. Ayane really was cute, especially when she was laughing.

“Ah jeez,” said Ayane, sitting up again and leaning against her hands. “Oh Goddess now I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Feel the end of it, really,” said Emma with a grin.

“Are we going to start all this up again?” asked Ayane. She raised a suggestive eyebrow. “I mean, I’m open to the suggestion, but I was sort of getting the feeling we were winding it down?”

“Well, that depends,” said Emma. “I got an offer to get a custom set of clothes made, but I have to get back to them sometime tonight, so it’s either clothes shopping or, um, this.”

“Who’s doing the design?” asked Ayane. “Do I know them?”

“No,” said Emma. “It’s one of the production AIs who work in Zeus Research’s machine shop. Apparently he does clothing design in his spare time.”

“Really? That’s cool. Have you had tailored clothes before?”

“Sort of, for football,” said Emma. “They custom tailor our uniforms, especially in the big clubs.”

“Huh,” said Ayane. “The most I’ve ever got was a polo shirt.”

“Yeah, it’s an interesting experience.”

“Well, I think you should do it!” said Ayane brightly. “It sounds cool, and you’d get something a lot better than a football uniform out of it.”

“You think so?” asked Emma. “It was a pain in the arse when we did it for football.”

“Yeah!” said Ayane. “It’ll be cool! Can I come with?”

“Uh, sure,” said Emma.

Ayane grinned. “Excellent, I get to see you in your underwear.”

Emma threw a pillow at her.

“You know, despite not getting to see you in your underwear, I would say this is a pretty reasonable compromise.”

Emma frowned at Ayane from her place standing on top of a dais within the sim Giovanni and Ayumi used for clothing design. The room around them was minimally decorated, with a wide bank of lights across the ceiling to allow for a variety of lighting conditions.

“You realize I don’t actually dance like that,” said Emma. “I’m never going to dance like that.”

“Aww, but it’s cute!” said Ayane. The miniaturized avatar of Emma that Ayane was playing with smiled brightly and spun about in a circle. The little dress it was wearing was one of many versions that Giovanni and Ayumi had already worked through and had decided were unsuitable. “See, the dress even works because of the dancing!”

“But I don’t like that dress,” Emma pouted.

“Oh fine, if you’re going to be like that,” said Ayane, rolling her eyes as she flicked at the behavior control of the avatar. A moment later, the miniature Emma began picking at her dress and pouting. “There, I’ve changed it so it acts more like you. It even makes the same faces!”

Emma squinted and then made a scandalized noise. “I don’t make that face!”

“You totally make that face!”

Ayumi leaned over to look at the model, glanced up at Emma, then nodded sagely.

“You totally make that face.”

“I do not!”

“You’re making it now,” Ayumi and Ayane said together.

“Emma, if you could lift your arm,” said Giovanni blandly, “I need to adjust the embroidery.”

“Have you done this a lot, Ayumi?” asked Ayane as Emma grumbled and Giovanni fussed. “You and Giovanni are very good.”

“A bit,” said Ayumi. She looked embarrassed. “I followed a few blogs back in school, but didn’t really think it was more than an idle hobby until I met Giovanni.”

“Oh? What’s the story behind that?”

“Not much, really,” said Ayumi. She looked over at Giovanni with a small smile. “I mean, we just work together a lot. It came up eventually as something we shared interest in.”

“How much is ‘a lot’?” asked Ayane. She glanced at Emma with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, I mean, not that often, but we usually work together on our projects,” said Ayumi. “And we’ve spent some time out of lab together too. Movies and stuff.”

“Uh huh…” said Ayane.

“I figure they may as well start dating,” Emma said to Ayane over telepathy.

“They definitely should,” Ayane replied. Out loud she said: “Are you considering trying for a relationship?”

Emma snorted but bit her tongue as Ayumi flushed and Giovanni went stock still. Ayane had probably intentionally gone for the bluntest possible way of asking the question. The ringing silence that followed was a familiar one to Emma, and had usually preceded a loud shouting match back in training.

Ayumi and Giovanni were saved from answering the question by an actual ringing noise.

“I’llgetthatsorryit’sprobablyimportant,” Ayumi babbled before turning away and starting a video call with someone.

“Turn around,” Giovanni ordered stiffly. Emma pivoted and held back a sigh as Giovanni adjusted a piece of fabric minutely and began to do something involving his finger prodding very hard into her side.

“For what it’s worth, I think it’d work out,” Ayane commented idly.

“Thanks,” Giovanni said, rolling his eyes. “Alright, Emma, take a look. What do you think?”

Emma pulled up the preview pane to look at herself.

Giovanni and Ayumi had unanimously decided that she needed a dress. That Emma really preferred things with pants was roundly ignored. In the end, though, it was a sensible sort of outfit. The dress was sleeveless with a round, conservatively cut collar. The skirt ended just mid-thigh and fit loosely, leaving her plenty of space for movement despite the fact it probably would never be necessary.

The base fabric was an extremely finely woven vine-patterned silk damask cloth, all in a deep, charcoal gray. Over that, Giovanni had stitched two panels of heavier, satin-weave fabric, these in shimmering black, that wrapped across Emma’s torso and hips like pieces of armor. The effect was heightened by small diamond-shaped pieces of burnished steel, riveted into the fabric in concentric rings that started at her waist and rippled outwards across her chest and hips. A wide belt, studded with smaller metal diamonds, was cinched across her waist. Fine chainmail mesh hung between the two panels and under the belt, jingling slightly as Emma shifted her weight. A pair of tall boots, reaching up past her knees and made of black leather, completed the ensemble.

“You know, I’d have said that it’s too dark and needs a little color,” said Ayane thoughtfully. “But it works really well as is.”

“Maybe a scarf of some kind,” said Giovanni. “It’s a little out of fashion lately, but I think it would work.”

“Red, to match Emma’s costume?”

“Yes, I think so,” said Giovanni. He gestured and materialized a thin silk scarf tied around Emma’s neck in a knot that left two tufts of red next to her throat. “How do you feel about that?”

“I feel like a target,” Emma said blandly. “Could we not, instead?”

“Er, sure,” said Giovanni, dematerializing the scarf with a wave. “Otherwise it looks fine?”

“Sure, I think so,” said Emma with a shrug. “I’m not that good at judging these things. Ayane?”

“You should go for it,” said Ayane, nodding. “There’s a lot of similar stuff, to be honest, but I think it suits you. Er, no offense, Giovanni.”

“Oh none taken,” said Giovanni with an easy grin. “Trust me, I know better than some just how difficult it is to make something truly unique. Is there anything else you guys want me to do?”

“No, this is good enough,” said Emma.

“Great!” said Giovanni. He waved his hand again so that Emma returned to her street clothes. “I’ll get started on this right away. There should be a few open machines available.”

Emma stepped off of the podium with a sigh, rubbing her neck. “Well that’s done, I guess. I need a nap.”

“You and your naps,” said Ayane. She patted the space next to her, a chair manifesting in the simulation. “Though a nap sounds nice, now that you mention it.”

“Naps are always nice,” said Emma. She sat down and sighed again. “Do you think we can leave?”

“Probably? I mean, I think we’re done.”

“Hey Ayumi, can we head out?” Emma asked.

“Sure, go ahead,” said Ayumi. She hung up from her call with a sigh. “Sorry for logging out, that was Dr. Hang. She’s been waiting for a part from me and Giovanni for the last week and was getting antsy.”

“What’s Dr. Hang work on?” asked Ayane curiously.

“Well, Dr. Hang’s part of the Verner Lab, which does fundamental research on how magical girls interact with their environment,” said Ayumi. “Dr. Hang’s focus is on magical girl training and power development, and is based on a bunch of funding from MSY Careers and Education.”

“Really?” asked Ayane. “I guess that makes sense, since her research would help develop new ways to teach new girls how to use their magic.”

“Yes, exactly,” said Ayumi. She sighed and made an annoyed expression. “The problem is, you have to take really precise measurements to capture very small differences between a newly contracted girl’s magic usage and, say, a more experienced girl’s magic, which means she’s always complaining about our tolerances being too wide.”

“Ah, that sounds like a pain.”

“It’s what it is,” said Ayumi with a shrug and a deep, put-upon sigh. “Her mood’s been worse than usual, since she’s been trying to get funding to run experiments with girls coming back from Samsara.”

Emma and Ayane both raised an eyebrow.

“Did she get past ethics committee already?” asked Ayane.

“I’m not sure of the details. From what I’ve seen, there’s nothing that’s particularly notable ethically,” said Ayumi, shrugging again. She made another put-upon expression. “The only real problem she seems to be having is she keeps coming up with ideas faster than she can get funding for it all, so we’re forced to try and do something with whatever funds she can cobble together overnight. Half the stuff she gives us needs a wish and a contract to fulfill with the budget he’s giving!”

“That sounds rough,” said Ayane sympathetically. “I hope it gets better for you.”

“Yeah, same here,” said Emma. She looped an arm around Ayane’s. “We’re headed out though, unless there’s something else you need from us.”

“No, we’re good. Come back tomorrow evening to try on the dress, okay?”

“Okay, see you later.”


	9. Conversation Street

Mitakihara’s weather for the following morning was dull, but warm, and a little drizzly. Emma wiped water off of her face as she stood on the roof of the Church and swung her halberd in lazy circles. Kyouko hadn’t mentioned that she should do any studying ahead of time, but Emma flicked through a halberdier’s manual from the middle ages anyway. It was probably useless to her, all things considered. The text had been written in Swiss, and was formulated for the average slightly-malnourished Swiss Mercenary soldier.

Magical girl physiology was rather substantially different.

“You know,” Kyouko called out as she emerged onto the roof. “You could stand under the ledge. Avoid the rain and all that.”

“It feels nice,” said Emma with a small smile. “It’s not that cold.”

“You’re crazy,” Kyouko said with a roll of her eyes. She transformed in a flash of red. “Who the hell does that? Goddess.”

“Heh, maybe,” said Emma. She flipped her halberd around in a circle. “Thank you again, Kyouko, for teaching me.”

“You’re a bit early to be thanking me,” said Kyouko blandly. “Who knows, I may fail at this teaching thing. But let’s get started.”

“Okay.”

“We’ll start with a few warm-up exercises,” said Kyouko. She stepped out into the rain to stand next to Emma, whirling her spear into a ready position. “This is your starting position.”

“Alright,” said Emma, swinging her halberd into an approximation of Kyouko’s stance. Kyouko broke her stance to circle Emma contemplatively, poking and nudging until Emma’s stance was to Kyouko’s satisfaction.

“Good enough,” said Kyouko. She snapped back into her own ready position. “Now, the first step is like this…”

The next ten minutes passed quietly, with Emma following Kyouko through the form. It was fairly basic, with simple footwork and smooth, direct motions, clearly intended to be something easy to pick up and easy to move through quickly.

“There, that’s good,” said Kyouko approvingly as they moved through the form once again. “It’s pretty easy, right?”

“Mmhm,” said Emma, frowning in concentration.

“You can make it more complicated by adding some flourishes,” said Kyouko, doing a variation on one of the steps by flicking her spear in a circle. “Do it right and nobody can tell it’s nothing special. Totally got laid doing that once.”

Emma smothered a laugh and nearly missed the next step, but recovered quickly. That sounded like Kyouko.

“Anyway keep moving through it,” said Kyouko. “Try to go a little faster each time.”

“Okay.”

“While you do that, let’s talk about your career,” said Kyouko. She settled down onto a nearby bench that was protected from the drizzle. “Do you have any idea what you want to do?”

“N-no?” Emma said. Her halberd faltered briefly.

“Ah, that’s not surprising,” said Kyouko. “Most girls your age don’t. Still, we should figure something out. I can’t teach you effectively otherwise.”

“Okay…”

A list from MSY Careers and Education appeared in front of Kyouko as the older girl set a pair of holographic wire-framed glasses on her nose. Emma had to move into the next step of the form hurriedly to avoid laughing outright.

“Let’s see now,” said Kyouko as she scanned through the list. “Well the Black Heart seem to have their eye on you, so that’s very interesting. Careers seems to think you’d do well in the Soul Guard as well, and Light Infantry School thinks you’d be a good match for the Aerial Assault Corps.”

Emma paused at the last suggestion. “Light Infantry School? You mean the regular military?”

“Yeah, it’s a bit different from the Magical Girl Corps,” said Kyouko. “More rigorous discipline and all that. Most girls don’t go in until they’ve gotten older.”

“Why not?”

“Maturity, usually,” said Kyouko with a shrug. “Typically you’re looking at a much more infantry-centric role, with a lot less interaction with other magical girls. The Aerial Assault Corps, AAC, is more heavily mixed, but you’re still working very closely with your infantry.”

Emma made a wry face. “Don’t I do that already?”

“Well sure, you do,” said Kyouko. “Most girls are pretty separated during an operation. AAC Ops are focused on emergency response. Preventing a total collapse of a line, or something.”

“…that still sounds like what I do all the time.”

“Which explains your kill/death ratio in training,” said Kyouko, pulling up another screen. “Let’s see… 36th Percentile, impressive!”

Emma blushed. “I-It’s not that bad…”

“No, no, you’re right, I shouldn’t tease,” said Kyouko with a small smile. “I never went to school or anything after all.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah, totally dropped out when I was twelve,” said Kyouko. She leaned back against the bench with a small sigh. “Then Mami dragged me back, but my grades were still pretty shit. Man, that was so long ago.”

Emma paused, scrolling through her memories of M4 Trivia and carefully scratching out anything that might be impolite before continuing. “…Didn’t they, uh, make you a CEO at some point? How did you pull that one off?”

“It turns out that business is mostly posturing and talking,” said Kyouko with a shrug. “Doesn’t take a genius to figure that stuff out.”

“…really?”

“Well, I had an apprentice at the time who I handed a lot of stuff to,” said Kyouko. She paused, brow furrowing. “Come to think of it, she did seem to spend an awful lot of time doing paperwork…”

Emma rolled her eyes. That also sounded like Kyouko.

“Anyway,” said Kyouko quickly. She coughed awkwardly. “Yes, so, you and kill/death ratios aside, your habits in combat mesh well with AAC’s standard operating procedures. Still, it’s a pretty intense combat role.”

Emma swallowed and coughed as she swung her halberd around and brought it back up. “Maybe not so soon?”

“Maybe,” said Kyouko, eyeing Emma’s stance. “You’re letting the halberd slide too far down.”

Emma readjusted.

“Better.”

“But uh, what about the Soul Guard?” asked Emma.

“Well there’s a few options,” said Kyouko. “These days it’s heavily militarized, but it’s still fundamentally a policing organization. Investigating and detaining other magical girls, potentially with force, is part of the job.”

Emma snapped her halberd into position and froze, completing the form. A moment later she brought the halberd back to attention, then relaxed.

“I’d have thought that these days, there’s not much magical girl crime?” asked Emma. She rested her halberd against the roof and leaned against it.

“Well, no, just because most of us are in a war doesn’t mean that crime stops,” said Kyouko with a small sigh. “Girls go AWOL and get into barfights all the time, though that’s only the tip of that iceberg. The Soul Guard also works closely with the MHD to capture magical girls who may be spiraling and get them into protective custody.”

“That could be alright,” said Emma, looking down. She shuffled her feet awkwardly. “I uh, like I said, I’m not totally sure I want to go into combat just yet.”

Kyouko gave Emma a skeptical look. “Are you sure?”

“What do you mean?”

“You seem to do well in combat,” said Kyouko, shrugging. “Your scores in training are one thing, but you really have some talent for fieldwork. Going into the Soul Guard would be a bit of a waste, I think.”

Now it was Emma’s turn to look skeptical. “What do you mean, exactly? I don’t have any particular combat talents, and I—” the bodies of her first platoon flashed through her memory “—I’m not a successful platoon leader either.”

“Perhaps,” said Kyouko. She crossed her legs and waved away the holographic glasses. “But you only have one real battle under your belt and you had no ability to prepare for it. You led a group of newbies well enough that they survived through their first battle as well, and managed to hold yourself together enough to effectively return fire when your position was subject to the main thrust of a cephalopod offensive. There’s not much more anyone could expect out of you, Emma.”

Emma looked down, flushing. It was flattering to hear that come from Kyouko, of all people.

“But all that being said,” continued Kyouko, “you’re not wrong either. It’s simply unrealistic to say otherwise. If your goal is to move up the ranks, then it’s true that the Soul Guard will be easier for you. The work isn’t as dependent on your performance, and you could use more of the education background you have.”

“You mean in logistics?” Emma asked with a grimace. “I mean I could, but…”

“It’s up to you,” Kyouko repeated with a shrug. “Just something to think about.”

“It’s an interesting point,” said Sarah Johansen. She shuffled a deck of cards idly as she considered Emma’s question. “In the end, what Kyouko-sama says is true. It comes down to what you want.”

Emma sighed and paced in a circle in her room. This was not, in fact, all that satisfying of an answer.

“Yes, yes, I know,” said Sarah. She glanced up at Emma with an amused expression. “It’s a very difficult question, and you’re only fourteen. Honestly it’s sort of an unreasonable question, but, well…”

“Yeah,” said Emma.

“That being said, I’ve worked a lot with the Aerial Assault Corps,” Sarah continued. “If you wanted to join them, I wouldn’t say it’s all that bad of a decision. The training is very, very intense relative to what you get in the standard magical girl training cohorts, but the girls I’ve worked with have all been some of the most professional and dedicated magical girls I’ve ever met.”

Emma nodded. That sounded good. “What do you actually do? There’s some stuff online that you can look up, but it’s kind of sparse.”

“Yes, that’s how it typically is with this sort of thing,” said Sarah. “From what I’ve seen, you end up spending a lot of time hurrying up to wait. The AAC doesn’t deploy unless there’s a critical breach in the line or something needs to be killed very hard very quickly. When you need them, they’re extremely good, but when you don’t need them they tend to sort of not do much.”

Emma made a face. “Sounds boring.”

“Well, warfare often is, isn’t it?” Sarah said rhetorically. “But the work they do is very important. You remember from training about tempo?”

“Yeah,” said Emma. “About how, uh, how during combat you want to like, keep momentum going and stuff?”

Sarah made a face. “…close enough, I suppose. Basically, once your enemy is retreating, you want to keep them retreating while not exposing yourself to counter-attack. If you try to do that with teleporters, you can quickly overextend your forces.”

“Right, because you can get the teleporters isolated, and the contracting rate is low.”

“Yes, exactly,” said Sarah, nodding. It was a basic lesson from training, but important. You really didn’t want to get your unit’s teleporter killed. “The fastest and most flexible transport outside of teleportation is air transport, which is why the unit is called the Aerial Assault Corps.”

“And magical girls can join?”

“It’s open to any soldier that passes the qualifying exams,” said Sarah. “It’s not easy. Ultimately, the unit is part of the Light Infantry and not considered ‘magical girl infantry’. You’re not in the unit because you’re a magical girl, you’re an infantryman who happens to have magical abilities.”

Emma frowned and rubbed her temples. “Ugh. I need a drink.”

“Don’t we all?” Sarah asked wryly. “How are things on Earth?”

“They’re alright,” said Emma. “How about in the fleet?”

“Waiting,” said Sarah with a tired sigh. “There’s a lot of rumors, and mopping up operations are still ongoing, so nobody’s really sure about anything.”

“Have you seen any action?”

“Only a little,” said Sarah. “The focus so far has been on fleet actions and orbital strikes. There’s no need to land troops when you can just overwhelm their air defenses with sheer numbers.”

“What’s the damage like?”

Sarah frowned. “It’s been pretty bad. The squid hit hard and smashed through with sheer firepower. The first few systems stood no chance at all. It’s a miracle that Nuevo Extremadura held out as long as it did.”

“They’re posthumously awarding Admiral Picard the Star of Valor, right?”

“Yes, and the rest of the fleet is getting a bunch of awards too,” said Sarah. She paused and frowned. “Most of it posthumously as well. There’s precious few survivors from the battle.”

Emma clenched her teeth and swallowed. She really needed that drink.

“It’s what it is,” she said eventually.

“Indeed,” Sarah said. She shuffled her cards again, plasticized paper clamoring against plasticized paper. “It looks like my poker group has finally showed up. You good to go?”

Emma nodded. “Yeah.”

“Alright, I’ll see you later Emma.”

“See you.”

“So what are you thinking?” James Sinclair asked. Two cubes of sugar dropped into his tea cup with a plop. His spoon clinked gently against the side as he looked across at Emma from the rooftop coffeeshop they were meeting at.

“I think I want to go for it,” said Emma. She considered her own tea carefully. “It… sounds like it could be good.”

“Not the Soul Guard?”

“I mean, maybe?” Emma shrugged. “I uh, well, I’ve only had a little contact with them in the field. They’re not actually that different from my current job.”

James shrugged laconically and sipped his tea.

“You’d know better than me,” he said. “Though maybe you should see about a job shadow, or something? See if uh, what was it, MSY Careers?”

“Yeah.”

“See if MSY Careers has that sort of thing.”

“Maybe,” said Emma. She nibbled on a sandwich speculatively. Hmm… eggs and cucumbers might not have been the best idea.

“I think you mentioned at some point that you might want to stay out of pitched combat for a while?” said James. “Your redeployment requirements let you request a non-combatant position?”

“Yes.”

“But you might go for the Aerial Assault Corps anyway?”

“Yes.”

James nodded. “This doesn’t surprise me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t you remember the time you charged the line of defenders in that practice match?” James asked, smiling a little. “The defenders that were twice your weight?”

Emma flushed and shifted in her seat pridefully. “I totally won.”

“Sure,” said James nodding. He sighed a little. “Why couldn’t you have applied that to finance? Ah well…”

Emma frowned sharply.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

There was a beat.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” said James. He sighed again, regret flickering across his face. “The point, in the end, is that you were always one to charge in head on, rather than try and take the more careful route.”

“I guess,” said Emma, sipping her tea.

James bit into a sandwich in the silence that followed. He made some sort of noise of approval as he ate, and finished the sandwich quickly.

“I should order that again,” he said to himself, making a note on his implants. “That’s quite good…”

“Really, Dad?” Emma asked, giving James a look of mock concern. “Are you sure you shouldn’t take a few more days off from work?”

“Hey, it’s not that crazy of a combination of fillings!”

“It… it totally is though…”

“Tch, teenagers,” James sighed plaintively. “Send them off to war and they just stop understanding the subtleties of life…”

Emma sniffed and hid a smile.

“At least you inherited my taste in whisky,” said James. “We should have a drink sometime, talk about love and girls.”

“Ew, no,” said Emma flatly. “Just, no, Dad. No way.”

“Look, we understand completely,” said James with a teasing grin. “Your mother and I have a long history starting around your age, so if you need any tips—”

“Oh Goddess, Dad, no, please just shut up!”

James suppressed a cackle as Emma hid her head in her arms, then refilled her teacup.

“…a-although if you’re offering,” Emma mumbled. “I um, do have one question.”

James sobered up immediately. “What can I help with?”

“I uh, I have this problem,” said Emma, sitting up enough again to drink some more tea. “There’s um, two people interested in me, and I’m not sure how to choose.”

“Two people huh,” said James. “Both boys, or…?”

“One of them’s a girl.”

“That sounds about right.”

“Shut up!”

“Hehe,” chuckled James, crossing his legs contemplatively. “But still, how do they feel about each other? Or really, first of all, do they know that the other one exists?”

“They uh, met, and did some sort of honor oath thing?” Emma said. “I mean, nothing definitive, but…”

“Hmm,” James muttered. “Well in that case…”

He trailed off into silence. Emma finished an entire cup of tea waiting.

“In that case…?” Emma asked as she poured herself another cup.

“Mm, I’m not sure,” said James. He fiddled with a spoon for a moment, restrained himself from tapping it against his teacup, and set it back down. “But well, have you considered just dating both of them?”

“I— well— s-sort of?” Emma stammered. “Not really?”

“Sure, why not?” asked James speculatively. “I was in one such relationship before I met your mother. It was interesting in its own right, though not ultimately to my taste.”

“I— you—”

“Look, it’s not like it’s necessarily a good idea,” said James, picking his tea up again. “Obviously I don’t actually know anything about this relationship, so maybe it’s completely stupid, but, well, it is also an option.”

Emma drank her tea aggressively and set her cup down with a clack. For a moment she busied herself pouring another cup, adding sugar and milk, then stirring vigorously. She set her spoon down with another clack and picked up her cup.

“I’ll think about it,” Emma said, blushing furiously. “That’s— that’s all. I’ll think about it.”

Emma took an indignant sip of tea.

Lunch—proper lunch, as opposed to questionably edible tea snacks—was delayed until after team exercises with Shoshana and Vivianne.

“Ahhh, good beer is really a rare thing these days,” Shoshana sighed, sipping at a glass of something dark and malty.

“You can make that in your synthesizer,” Emma pointed out, the ice in her glass of whisky rattling as she swirled it around.

“No, you cannot,” said Shoshana, fixing Emma with a look over the top of her glass. “Trust me on this.”

“But—”

“Emma.”

“…Fine.”

“How’s your whisky?”

“It’s fine,” said Emma, shrugging. “Nothing special. Irish, apparently.”

“I’ve got to teach you about fine alcohol,” said Shoshana, shaking her head sadly. “Beer is so much better than anything distilled.”

“False,” Vivianne said, voice muffled by being face down in her arms. “Vodka is the best.”

Emma and Shoshana took a moment to stare at her.

“Anyway, how’s your leave been going?” Shoshana asked. “Keeping busy?”

“It’s been alright,” said Emma, nodding. She sipped her whisky. “Classes are boring.”

“Yeah, they usually are,” said Shoshana. “How about your relationship issues? Make any progress on that front?”

“Er,” said Emma.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep it a secret if you want!” said Shoshana, grinning in her closest approximation to a reassuring smile. “Vivianne, tell Emma about how trustworthy I am!”

“She’s completely untrustworthy,” said Vivianne, lifting her head just enough to stare Emma down. “Run awaaaaaay…”

Shoshana smacked her.

“A-anyway,” said Emma, drinking more whisky. “There’s not much to say. One of them is visiting.”

“Oooo, which one?” Shoshana asked as their food arrived. “Come on girl, details!”

“Why’re you so interested anyway?”

“Why wouldn’t I be interested?”

“Ugh.”

“Shoshana’s just a perv and a gossip,” Vivianne said. She pushed herself up and contemplated the steak in front of her. “She’s just teasing. Tell us more about this training you mentioned with Kyouko-san.”

Emma latched onto the topic gratefully. “So Kyouko says that she wants me to think about my career goals, so that she can teach me some stuff that’s more useful for what I want to do. I’ve been thinking about going into the Airborne Assault Corps or the Soul Guard, but I don’t really know enough about either.”

Vivianne nodded. “Sounds about right for you. Have you heard of the Knights of the Goddess?”

Emma shook her head as Shoshana gave Vivianne a look.

“Really?” Shoshana asked skeptically. “They’re kind of weird.”

“No they’re not,” said Vivianne, frowning at Shoshana. “They’re perfectly reasonable people.”

“But they have that whole thing about service and what not.”

“Sure, and? You’ve heard Kyouko-san’s sermons.”

“But—”

“Look, Emma can make up her own mind about it,” said Vivianne, raising a hand to halt the argument. She turned back to Emma. “The Knights of the Goddess are a sort of convent-slash-order-sect of the Cult that focus on serving and protecting both other magical girls and humanity in general.”

“It’s really kind of weird,” Shoshana interjected. “They’ve got a whole thing going with ranks and titles and stuff.”

Vivianne shot Shoshana a quelling look, but kept speaking. “I’m not gonna lie, I find it a little weird too, but they’re pretty open and not pushy. They’ve got a lot of girls who are in the more advanced combat positions, so they can help you with figuring out if doing that sort of thing is a good idea.”

Emma nodded, drinking her whisky speculatively. “Okay…”

“Up to you, of course,” said Vivianne, who suddenly looked very tired, “but they could be helpful.”

Emma nodded again. “I’ll look into it. Thanks.”

Vivianne made a noise and ate more steak.

Ayane had used the morning and afternoon to take advantage of Mitakihara’s uniquely magical-girl-oriented shopping scene. She and Emma had met up early in the afternoon in Ayane’s hotel room to go over the spoils.

“That is incredibly tacky,” Emma commented dryly as Ayane turned in a circle in front of her.

“What, because of what’s written on the front?” Ayane asked, looking down contemplatively.

“It says ‘flyers like to be on top’,” said Emma. She folded her arms and raised an eyebrow.

“And? It’s true!”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Fine, fine.”

“Anyway, what have you been doing all day?” Ayane asked, turning around and selecting another shirt.

“Meetings,” Emma said as Ayane changed. The new shirt said: “May Kyubey Have Mercy on Your Soul”.

“That seems kind of grim, don’t you think?” Emma asked.

“Eh, it’s not that bad,” said Ayane, looking in the mirror critically. “Well…”

“Give it to Ryouta maybe,” said Emma. “The shirt can resize and stuff.”

Ayane gave Emma a look. “Really?”

“What?”

“I mean, he’s— you’re—”

“Well I mean it’s not like you guys are actually fighting are you?” Emma asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah but we’re also competitors in l-love, and stuff,” said Ayane, flushing very slightly but frowning nonetheless. “It’s a little weird don’t you think?”

“Sort of?” Emma said. She looked down at her feet contemplative. “I mean, I don’t want you two to fight. It’d be good if you could be friends.”

Ayane made a displeased noise and took the shirt off. “That seems a lot to ask, don’t you think? One of us is going to end up being left in the cold, at the end of the day.”

Emma sighed.

“Well, my dad mentioned that we might be able to avoid that,” said Emma, “if we did a three-way, or something.”

Ayane stopped short and gave Emma a surprised look. “…Really?”

“I mean, I was just mentioning,” said Emma, squirming nervously. “I know it doesn’t really work. You’re not into boys at all, right?”

“No.”

“I just, like, couldn’t you two at least be friends?” Emma asked. “I don’t want to lose you or him over this.”

Ayane frowned thoughtfully down at the t-shirt in her hands and folded it up carefully.

“I think,” she said slowly, “that I would need to know Ryouta better to make any predictions about that.”

“Really?” Emma asked, looking hopeful.

“Maybe,” said Ayane, nodding. “I… yeah. I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it seriously before. You’re the first person to mention it to me as an option.”

“I— it’s not weird, is it?”

“No, that’s not it,” said Ayane. She set the shirt aside. “I just never thought about it before. Is it really that important to you?”

“Yes,” said Emma firmly. “It’s a little crazy, and when my dad mentioned it I thought it was…”

“Lewd?”

“Yes, incredibly, but, well, if you think about it…”

“Yeah,” said Ayane, nodding thoughtfully. “I mean, I guess, it comes down to trust, sort of?”

“Maybe? I haven’t the foggiest, to be honest, but I’d like to try.”

“I’m okay with that,” said Ayane, looking up at Emma. “But—!” she added, holding up a finger “—But I reserve the right to not like him and want you all for myself. Okay?”

Emma swallowed, then nodded.

“Okay.”


	10. East Egg

Emma arrived at the machine shop Giovanni and Ayumi worked in to find both of them entertaining a guest. Emma’s nomenclator indicated that the woman was Dr. Wuyi Hang, one of the many researchers in Zeus Research Institute, and probably the same Dr. Hang that Ayumi had been complaining about.

“Ah, you must be Emma!” said Dr. Hang, waving Emma over to where she had accosted Ayumi at a workbench strewn with tools. “Here, have a brownie!”

Emma looked askance at Ayumi and was met by an embarrassed smile.

“I accidentally mentioned your name when Dr. Hang called me the day you got your dress fitted,” Ayumi texted, looking away to fiddle awkwardly with a hex driver. “And, uh, that you’d come back from Samsara.”

“It’s fine,” Emma texted back, quickly assuming her standard Magical Girl Smile and accepting a brownie. Out loud, she said: “Thank you Dr. Hang. It looks delicious.”

“How are things going, Emma?” Dr. Hang asked as Emma picked up a brownie. “Ayumi tells me you just got back from Samsara.”

“That’s correct,” said Emma. She bit into the brownie and made an appreciative noise. “This is very good.”

“Thank you! It’s my personal recipe.”

“Are brownies very difficult to make?”

“No, not at all, I could show you sometime?”

Emma considered. “Maybe.”

“Well here, what does your schedule look like?” Dr. Hang asked, projecting a hologram of her own schedule between them. “I’ve got some free time coming up soon, why don’t we meet sometime this weekend?”

“You should accept,” Ayumi texted. “Seriously, she will never stop bothering you.”

Emma glanced between Ayumi, the brownie she held in her hand, and back up at Dr. Hang. The older woman had a look that seemed like she would gladly follow Emma out to the front if it was necessary in order to successfully show her Emma how to make brownies.

“I have a bad feeling,” Emma texted.

“Dr. Hang will probably try to convince you to work on her experiments,” Ayumi texted back.

“I see…”

“Well, Emma?” Dr. Hang prompted.

Emma sighed. “Sure. I might have something around then, but I’ll make sure to message you.”

“Wonderful!” said Dr. Hang, looking delighted. “Oh, but I’m monopolizing you. Did you come to talk to Ayumi about something?”

“Ah, yes, sorry, but I do need to talk to Ayumi,” said Emma with an apologetic smile.

“Fair enough, I’ll get out of your hair,” said Dr. Hang, standing up to leave. “Keep the brownies, Ayumi! I’ll make some more later.”

The two girls watched her leave in silence, then stood for a moment in awkward silence.

“Is she always like that?” Emma asked.

“Yes,” Ayumi sighed, dropping her face into her hands. “I’m sorry that you had to experience the Hang Treatment.”

“It’s… fine,” said Emma, sighing as well.

“I really did try to keep her from doing this,” said Ayumi, looking up at Emma contritely. “I really, really did. But Dr. Hang is…” Ayumi shook her head. “Anyway. Let’s get you your clothes.”

“Where’s Giovanni?” Emma asked as Ayumi walked off towards a shelf full of finished orders.

“He’s up to his eyeballs in a commission,” said Ayumi. “A lot of simulations to run, so he’s stepped out for a bit.”

Giovanni sent a text to say hello and apologize for not being around. Emma sent a text back, then shifted to lean on the workbench and pick up another brownie to munch on. They really were very good.

“What’re you working on?” Emma asked, poking at a half-assembled device with a finger.

“That?” Ayumi asked, glancing at the workbench. “Oh, that’s just another attempt at getting a recording device to work in a miasma.”

“I thought it was impossible?”

“Only sort of,” said Ayumi. She walked back with Emma’s dress bundled up in paper and tied shut with string, the package balanced atop a box holding the boots Giovanni had suggested during the fitting. “There’s been a few successes here and there with special magically-enhanced devices, just enough to keep hopes up. I don’t know about this one though.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s too simple,” said Ayumi, setting the packages down with a sigh. “Or, I guess, it’s too complex. It relies a lot on the magical girl doing the enchanting, which, well, I’m not really that well versed on to be honest.”

Emma shrugged. “I dunno, that sounds like a problem to me. Enchantment is freaky stuff.”

“Are you sure it’s because it’s hard or is it because you were watching football?” Ayumi asked, grinning at Emma. Emma frowned at her in mock anger, making Ayumi laugh. “All joking aside, it’s a little more interesting than just a bunch of enchanting. There’s a variety of basic controller work to do as well, in order for the device to react in the ways the lab wants it to react.”

“Easy stuff?”

“Just to get my feet wet, yeah,” said Ayumi, grinning confidently. “I’m planning on moving upstairs at the end of the year, actually.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” said Emma. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks!”

“I better get going though,” said Emma, checking her chronometer. “Yeah, I need to meet Ayane soon.”

“Alright, I’ll see you around then,” said Ayumi. She passed the dress to Emma with a smile. “Good luck!”

Emma and Ayane stepped onto the platform at the entrance to The Terminal Hotel and Casino, pausing to look up at the building’s immense, reputedly hand-built facade.

“That is pretty ridiculous,” Ayane said flatly.

“Apparently, back in the day, the hyperclass used to rent out the entire hotel and have huge parties,” Emma recited from Infopedia. “That’s nuts.”

“Why didn’t Governance demolish it?”

“Apparently because it’s an ‘important cultural heritage site, on account of the numerous landmark performances given by famous performers’,” Emma quoted, scrolling through the Infopedia entry some more. “The most famous event that happened here was some guy who used to be underclass and made it out. The hyperclass tried to spin it as an example of upward social mobility.”

Ayane snorted dismissively.

“I know right? So these days, the bottom floors have been renovated to be a museum, a concert hall, several ballrooms, and a convention center, but you can still rent out rooms if you want to come here for vacation.”

Ayane raised her eyebrows. “Here? Really? How much?”

“…a lot.”

Ayane made a face and peeked over at Emma’s interface.

“…that’s insane.”

“I think we make that much in about a week,” Emma said, wincing. “I mean, we could probably afford it, but then there’s the restaurant, and the bar…”

“How delightfully hedonistic,” Ayane said with dry humor. “If you ever want to go drown yourself in wine, let me know so I can come with you.”

Emma snorted and bumped Ayane’s shoulder with her own fondly. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

They made their way up the platform into the hotel’s wide, carefully-manicured terrace garden. Around them, a combination of unmanned and human caretakers monitored the riotous display of flowers that saturated the air with the scent of nectar and left visitors vaguely stunned by the sheer intensity of color. The pathway wound around the garden, inevitably converging upon the fountain in the center with its prancing horses dancing on top of giant seashells that bore voluptuous mermaids.

“Huh,” said Ayane, pausing at the fountain. She squinted at the sculptures briefly, then turned to give Emma a once over. “Maybe.”

“Maybe what?” asked Emma.

“Nothing,” said Ayane primly, before she took Emma’s hand and continued into the hotel.

The interior of the hotel was hugely busy. This was perhaps to be expected. During normal business hours, the hotel doubled as a museum of humanity’s cultural past. Photos of the sold-out concerts held in The Terminal’s Grand Central Ballroom, headlined by performers who were the premier musicians of their time, stood upon the walls, where holographic captions shimmered in the air just above them that told of a bygone era, of the romance and the passion, and of the deep injustices enacted upon those without the wealth or the privilege to see the sights and taste the luxuries of a hyperclass life. It was still possible for tourists to feel the thrill of a game of baccarat or poker or blackjack in the same gambling hall where once the absurdly wealthy had frittered away their fortunes in wins and losses that could feed an underclass family for months, if not years.

Ryouta was in the Milano Centrale Ballroom, a somewhat smaller ballroom more suited to the more intimate experience that was viewing a gallery of photographs. The room had already been largely converted by the time Emma and Ayane had arrived. The wide arched ceiling of stained glass panels arced overhead in a spectrum of reds and greens, while below three meter tall, implant-mediated panes of virtual glass projected paintings and animated figures. Photographs of Emma and Vira and Motya in color and in black and white floated amongst them.

“Emma! There you are!”

Ryouta looked incredibly happy, pulling Emma into an enthusiastic hug as he bounded over from where he had been coordinating something with an older man. Both were dressed in business suits, with Ryouta clad in a very sharply cut ensemble that somehow made him seem taller than he really was. Emma felt under-dressed in her customary hoodie and jeans.

“Ah, sorry Ayane,” said Ryouta, backing away to bow briefly. “It’s wonderful to see you!”

“Good to see you too,” said Ayane, bowing back and looking terribly amused. “What’s the big occasion?”

“Only my first touring art show!” said Ryouta with a smile that threatened to levitate off his face. “Nobody my age makes this sort of thing on their first trip into the field! This is amazing!”

“How many cities are you hitting?” asked Emma. She shoved her hands into her hoodie’s pockets, endeavoring to look casual. The older man was giving them an impatient look.

“Seven or eight, I think,” said Ryouta. “Let’s see, Tokyo, Mitakihara, Beijing, Saint Petersburg, then— yeah, yeah I think we finish in San Francisco, right Mr. Franzese?”

“After New York, yes, Mr. Shizuki,” said Franzese. “A long road, to be sure.”

“Mr. Franzese is one of my family’s long time fixers,” said Ryouta, pulling Emma and Ayane over to introduce them. “Mr. Franzese, this is my, er—”

“Girlfriend,” Emma said, glancing over at Ayane, who returned a neutral pulse over telepathy.

“—girlfriend, Emma Sinclair,” said Ryouta, looking briefly surprised, but recovering masterfully. “And this is—”

“Ayane Nakamura,” said Ayane, sparing Ryouta the trouble of juggling the social questions and bowing politely. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Franzese.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Nakamura,” said Franzese, glancing between the three of them with a raised eyebrow but deciding not to comment. “And to you as well, Ms. Sinclair. It is always good to see young people reaching out and forming relationships. I congratulate you.”

“Ah, um, thank you,” said Emma. She was fairly sure she was blushing as she bowed.

“Anyway, Mr. Franzese and I were just going over the plans for the evening,” said Ryouta. “I’m not sure if…”

“The hotel has many interesting attractions,” said Franzese dryly. “There isn’t much left to do. Why don’t you show your guests around, Mr. Shizuki.”

“Fair enough, Mr. Franzese,” said Ryouta, bobbing a quick bow. “In that case, I’ll leave it to you?”

Franzese sighed in slight amusement, the way that all adults seemed to sigh when they were recalling rose-tinted memories of their youth. “Try not to get too distracted. We’ll need to go over the plans once more.”

Ryouta beamed at him. “Alright.”

The plan as Emma had envisioned it was originally to spend time together with both Ayane and Ryouta. She had hoped to get them to start talking to each other, maybe get a feel for what a threesome, if it indeed happened, would be like. Unfortunately, this was not to be.

Ayane came to a halt as they turned the corner towards the elevators.

“I’m going to head back to my room,” she said. “Leave you two alone for a while.”

Emma blinked in surprise. “You don’t have to. I was hoping—”

“Nah, you two should spend some time together without me in the way,” said Ayane, waving her hand dismissively as she turned to leave. “It’s important.”

“If, er, if you’re sure…”

“It’s fine, really,” said Ayane with a final smile. “See you around.”

Emma watched her leave. She hadn’t expected that, and it worried her. She didn’t want Ayane to feel like she was being pushed away. If Ayane said it was fine, then perhaps, but…

“Emma?”

Emma sighed. She’d have to trust that Ayane was telling the truth.

“How have you been?” she said, turning to Ryouta with a smile. “Have things been going well for the art show?”

“Yeah!” said Ryouta enthusiastically. He gave a little skip as they reached the elevators, the doors sliding open smoothly just in time to let them step into the elevator pod. “It took a little while to get everything sorted, especially since I have to work with Governance. It’s pretty annoying.”

“What did Governance want?” asked Emma. The pod was a single bubble of polyglas, almost totally clear from every angle with only a single ring of gold to designate the floor. The effect would have been unsettling if Emma hadn’t been dropped out of buildings more than once in training. Ryouta seemed more affected, and he pointedly looked only at Emma’s face as they began to ascend.

“Oh, well, you know, magical girls are a touchy subject,” said Ryouta, making a helpless gesture. “You remember in Civics, how they talked about how in the beginning of the war they sent all magical girls?”

Emma nodded. If she’d been made to choose what era to be a magical girl in, the start of the Contact War would not have been the era she chose.

“Well if you follow the politics, there’s a lot of people trying to push the age limit higher,” said Ryouta.

“That’s… weird.”

Ryouta shrugged. “I guess? I don’t follow it very much.”

“I mean, everyone knows that we need every girl we can get,” said Emma with a scowl. “That’s dumb. Making a good wish is more important anyway.”

Ryouta shrugged again and smiled apologetically. “We don’t talk about it all that much at home, so I don’t know much. Governance wanted to make sure that the show doesn’t end up making an… unhelpful point. It’s fine, it wasn’t like I wanted to do that.”

Emma nodded. It made sense.

The elevator dinged as they reached the end of their ride. A glance at the status screen made Emma realize they were at the top of the building. The trip had been so smooth and quick that she hadn’t noticed that they’d moved.

“You’re living all the way up here?” Emma asked as the doors opened. “This is pretty swank.”

“Yeah,” said Ryouta, grinning a little sheepishly. “It turns out that the Shizuki Matriarchy owns the hotel.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Of course.”

“Aunt Sayaka messaged me and said that she’d taken care of my hotel and stuff when I was getting ready to leave Nagoya,” said Ryouta, stepping quickly onto firm, opaque ground and breathing a small sigh of relief. “So that was cool. I didn’t realize she was going to do this though.”

“And so you ended up with a penthouse suite,” Emma deadpanned as she followed. “That’s pretty impressive for someone our age.”

“Well, there are some benefits to being a member of a major matriarchy,” said Ryouta. He gestured for Emma to follow him and began walking. “I heard that the Burnside-Sinclairs are trying to absorb you and your family?”

“Something of that nature,” said Emma with a shrug. “I haven’t talked to my parents about it much, but they seem against it. Why do you ask?”

“It’s making the news in the Shizuki social network,” said Ryouta. He shrugged as well. “I don’t know much about it and I’m not too interested, but if you’d like I can ask my mom about it some more?”

“My parents would probably appreciate it,” said Emma with a wry smile. “It’s troublesome, but if you’re offering, I guess I should probably take advantage of you.”

Ryouta snorted. “I’m just using you to further my own political gains,” he said with fake snobbishness. “Soon you will be bowing and scraping before me, peasant girl.”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure, and meanwhile my sister who is secretly a magical girl is planning on assassinating you so that I can steal your inheritance. Or something.”

“That doesn’t actually happen you know,” Ryouta said, snickering. “Only in vids.”

“That’s what they said about penthouse suites after the Unification Wars,” said Emma. “And look where you’re living now.”

“Yeah, well, I’m told not to get too used to it,” said Ryouta, stopping in front of his door and holding it open. “So I’m probably safe from assassination for the moment. After you.”

“Thank you.”

Emma stepped inside and looked around as she took off her shoes. The suite wasn’t much larger than her family’s apartment, to be honest, but it’d been reshuffled to look larger and had two floors. The first floor was the living room, decorated in a sort of retro-Riviera way with full-length French windows that opened up to a balcony. The second floor, from what Emma could see near the door, was supposed to be the bedroom, and had been decorated similarly to the first floor.

“It’s supposed to be a one-person,” said Ryouta, stepping in after her. “Queen-sized bed and stuff. Supposedly it hasn’t been changed from its original setup, but I can play music with my implants so it can’t be that original.”

Emma blinked as an ancient jazz tune began playing.

“You listen to jazz?” she asked, smiling a little. The song was familiar to her.

“A little,” said Ryouta. He took Emma’s hand and pulled her towards the living room. “I noticed it on your profile and thought I’d take a look. Do you want something to drink?”

“Sure, some water is fine.”

“Nothing alcoholic?” asked Ryouta. “The minibar is pretty impressive, though I can’t really appreciate much of it.”

“It’s not just a synthesizer?”

“No, it’s got actual bottles!” said Ryouta excitedly as he pulled open the cabinet full of drinks. “See? It’s amazing! I’ve never seen so many all at once.”

“Me neither,” said Emma, bending over to examine the bottles. “Oh hey, my dad buys this one.”

“Is it any good?”

“I like it,” said Emma with a shrug. “Have you tried it?”

“No.”

“Do you want some?”

Ryouta shrugged. “Sure.”

Emma poured out a glass for Ryouta and poured herself a glass of water.

“Here.”

“Thanks,” said Ryouta. He made an embarrassed face and coughed. “Ah, uh, well, really, I should be pouring for you. Sorry for being a bad host.”

“Eh? Don’t worry about it, it’s nothing important.”

“It is!” insisted Ryouta, before reconsidering. “Well, not that important, I guess, but still. Boys should, you know, do these things when they’re d-dating someone.”

Emma made a face. “Is this a matriarchy thing?”

“Must be,” said Ryouta, taking his glass of whiskey with a pout. “Mom would yell at me if we were at home.”

“Oh.”

“Anyway, I was thinking that we should get some lunch?” said Ryouta. He gestured at the balcony. “I didn’t think that Ayane wouldn’t be coming with us, but I don’t think it changes much.”

Emma smiled at him. “Lunch would be nice.”

“So, er, I’ve been meaning to ask,” said Ryouta after they’d settled into the meal. “Why did you introduce yourself as my girlfriend?”

Emma blinked and looked up from her plate of food. “Does it bother you?”

“No, of course not,” said Ryouta. He blushed and poked at a pea. “It makes me happy. But, well, didn’t you say you were still, er…”

“Deciding?”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” said Emma carefully. “Ayane and I talked about it. We decided that it wouldn’t be right if I didn’t introduce myself that way. Ayane didn’t introduce herself as my girlfriend because she didn’t want to imply anything.”

“Imply?”

Emma took a deep breath. “I’m thinking about dating both of you. In a threesome.”

Ryouta blinked at her. “…really?”

“Yeah.”

“Since when?”

“Last night, I guess?” said Emma. “I talked to my dad, and he mentioned it might be worth trying.”

“Interesting…”

“Ayane didn’t want to make it seem like it was a thing without asking you first,” said Emma. She put her fork down to keep from fidgeting with it nervously. “What do you think?”

Ryouta picked up his drink and took a thoughtful sip.

“Well, it wouldn’t be that weird,” he said eventually. “It’s not that common, true, but I have a cousin that’s in a threesome. We may as well try it.”

Emma blinked. “Really?”

Ryouta shrugged. “I mean, it’s really not that weird? I’ve never done it before, but as long as Ayane is okay with it there’s no reason not to.”

Emma smiled in relief. “I’ll let Ayane know then. We’ll have to plan a date for the three of us.”

Ryouta laughed, picking up his fork again to cut off a piece of pork. “I’ll look around. There’s a lot to do in Mitakihara, so I’m sure we’ll find something fun to do.”

They lapsed into silence, quietly eating for a moment.

“Oh, right, I forgot to tell you,” said Ryouta. “Mr. Franzese went ahead and invited Vira and Motya to fly in from Samsara.”

“Really?” Emma asked, surprised. “When did that happen?”

“A while ago, apparently,” said Ryouta. He made an annoyed face. “Mr. Franzese didn’t mention it to me until a few days ago, and then I forgot to tell you because of how busy I was at the time.”

“Don’t worry about it, I understand,” said Emma, waving off the concern. “When did they get to Mitakihara?”

“Their flight wasn’t supposed to reach Earth until yesterday,” said Ryouta. “Aunt Sayaka got them nice rooms somewhere in town, but not in The Terminal.”

“Only the best for her precious grandchild?” Emma asked wryly.

Ryouta blushed. “I-I guess.”

“Anyway, are they going to be traveling with the show?” asked Emma. “Or are they just here for the first opening?”

“They’re only here for the first opening,” said Ryouta. “They wanted to get back to Samsara as quickly as possible, though I think they’ll be around long enough to see Mitakihara a little.”

“Ah, that makes sense,” said Emma, nodding. “Maybe we’ll go on a patrol together.”

“That could be fun.”

“Heh, hopefully.”

“Speaking of which, what have you been doing while I’ve been preparing for this show?” asked Ryouta. “I’m sorry, I haven’t really been keeping up with what’s been happening.”

“Oh, don’t worry, it’s fine,” said Emma. “I’ve just been going on patrol and taking a couple of classes. Oh, and Kyouko has decided to train me in polearm combat for some reason.”

“Really? That’s amazing!”

“I guess,” said Emma, flushing slightly. “Everybody keeps saying that. She’s making me talk to people about my vision with it, so—”

“You got a vision?” Ryouta asked, eyebrows jumping upwards. “That’s— holy crap! Why didn’t you mention it earlier?”

“I-I mean, I don’t really… it’s not a pleasant vision,” said Emma. She frowned at her plate. “It mostly involves ways that I die, in the future. I saw two versions of myself who had died in different ways. One died in combat, the other from depression. They grabbed me by the hands, and then the Goddess said something about how I had to choose, but that to fulfill my wish I had to use both hands.”

Ryouta put his fork down again and looked at Emma contemplatively.

“That is a very interesting vision,” he said seriously. “It sounds complex.”

“Do you have any thoughts on it?”

Ryouta made a troubled expression. “The straightforward analysis is easy. The Goddess is likely making some kind of point about needing balance in your life. But that seems too easy.”

“…really?”

“Well what does balance actually mean?” asked Ryouta. “It’s sort of vague, don’t you think? I think that there’s something important that we’re missing.”

“I guess…”

Ryouta sighed. “Well, whatever I suppose. It’s probably not something to dwell too much on. Have you asked Ayane about this?”

“Ayane said something similar,” said Emma. “About balance and stuff.”

Ryouta nodded. “I’ll think more about it later then. Do you want any dessert?”


	11. Cultural Enrichment

Emma and Ryouta whiled away the remaining hours until the beginning of the art show cuddling on the couch in the living room. It was a little unexpected. They had fallen into an easy silence, with Ryouta laying across Emma’s lap to quietly finish preparations while Emma completed a few assignments for her coursework. It had been weirdly soothing, something that Emma wasn’t used to, but something that she had immediately decided she wanted to have more of.

All too soon it was time to head down and prepare to receive the first guests. The art show was eventually to be open to the public, but its initial opening was to be a sort of gala, with various dignitaries from the MSY and wealthy patrons of the arts arriving to partake in the cultural expansion being brought to the people of Earth.

A lot of grand nonsense, Emma thought, as she undressed upstairs while Ryouta waited on the first floor. Her new dress and boots had been sent over via drone, and as a matter of course the material had survived the journey without any wrinkles. It felt a little strange to be changing in a boy’s bedroom, but then Emma would hardly be a magical girl worth her soul gem if she let things like that bother her.

“Do you need any help?” Ryouta called up the stairs. He had changed earlier into a tuxedo, with Shizuki-emblem cufflinks.

“No,” Emma called back, rolling her eyes. Ryouta would get to see her in her underwear in due course.

“Alright.”

Emma rolled her eyes again as she unfolded the dress and watched the fabric sort itself out. The thing about galas, in her opinion, was that they were really all about posturing and not at all about anything material. She’d only really had to attend one in her life, and that had been when she’d been very small, but she’d spent more than enough time listening to her parents go over every detail of the events they’d attended to know she had no interest in the affairs of the rich and monied. Ultimately she had always wanted to just play her football games and do the best she could.

Well, now that had changed a little. She was a magical girl, not a football player. But the sentiment was the same, in the end.

The dress slipped on over her head smoothly, clinking slightly as the metal plates on the front and sides shifted. The material was surprisingly heavy, sitting densely across her shoulders and hips. Moving in it felt unexpectedly similar to moving in her costume. The boots were similar to her costume’s as well, with similar heft and a satisfying clunk as she let her foot drop onto the floor.

“You okay up there?”

“I’m fine.”

Emma smiled and sniffed in satisfaction. Giovanni and Ayumi did a pretty good job. It was a little weird how on the nose they were, but then again a magical girl’s costume was ultimately clothing specially made for her. It didn’t really surprise her, in retrospect, that custom designed and stitched clothes ended up feeling the same.

“Alright, I’m ready,” Emma said, stepping out and walking down the spiral staircase that led from the first to the second floor. The staircase was made of antique hardwood, resonating with nearly musical qualities as she made her way down the steps.

Emma stopped at the foot of the stairs and self-consciously brushed at her hair. “How um, how do I look?”

“You look amazing,” said Ryouta. He had a slightly stunned look on his face. “I— you’re beautiful.”

Emma went very red. “T-thanks.”

“Here, uh, I got you a gift,” said Ryouta. He rummaged in his suit pockets briefly before pulling out a small, felt-covered box and clearing his throat. “It’s uh, not much, but, you know, it seemed appropriate. I hope you like it.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d expect you to be on one knee,” said Emma as she took the box. “…this isn’t actually a proposal is it?”

“No, uh, I mean, it seems too early,” said Ryouta, tucking his hands into his pockets. “But well, you know, we’ll see I guess?”

“Let’s maybe not think about it too hard,” Emma said with a nervous laugh.

“Yeah, I agree. So, uh, anyway…” Ryouta gestured vaguely at the box.

“Oh, right,” said Emma.

The box contained a plain, flattened ring of metal, only a few millimeters thick, with a thin notch etched along its perimeter. It seemed entirely unremarkable, except perhaps for the very vaguest haze of magic that seemed to hover on the surface of the metal.

“What is it?”

“It’s a particular kind of soul gem ornament,” said Ryouta. “You’re supposed to put the ring onto the bottom of your soul gem. It’s enchanted to stay on automatically and draw a tiny bit of magic from your soul gem. Not enough to matter.”

Emma summoned her gem and put the box down on the counter of the minibar, slipping the ring onto the bottom of her gem with a quiet clink of metal on metal. A message blipped onto her interface, giving her instructions on how to activate the ornament.

“Give it a try.”

Emma gave him a slightly confused look but activated the ornament. There was a brief pause as the ornament charged, before a flash of blue light filled the room. Motes of light spun out from Emma’s soul gem, rotating in space slowly as Emma’s gem levitated up and out of her hand to hang in the air before her.

“It’s the constellation Pisces,” Ryouta explained, stepping closer as Emma gazed up at the spinning dots. “The ornament is basically a hologram emitter with a very small antigravity generator inside of it that’s providing the lift. By default, it’s programmed so that your gem is the brightest star in the constellation, Eta Piscium, but you can change that. You can also make the star change colors, though personally I think it’s cooler when it’s the same color as your soul gem.”

“This is really amazing,” said Emma, grinning widely as she walked around the room and poked at a star. Her implants simulated a spark of heat under her finger as it pressed against the surface. “Where did you get this?”

“Oh, my family has a couple of people they know,” said Ryouta. “A constellation ornament isn’t that common, but when I asked Aunt Sayaka, she said I should get one for you.”

“You get a lot of advice from that woman,” said Emma, raising an eyebrow at him. “Is that normal?”

“Only for romantic things,” said Ryouta dryly. “Obaa-sama is pretty much trying to get us married as fast as possible.”

Emma snorted. “That somehow isn’t surprising.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes,” said Emma. She pulled her gem towards her and turned it back into a ring, the ornament conforming into a tiny silvery band along one of the edges.

“Oh, good, I was afraid it would be too romantic or something,” said Ryouta with a relieved sigh. “I’m glad that—”

Emma kissed him.

“You’re not wrong, it’s pretty romantic,” she said with a small smile, pulling back and brushing her hair back. “Your matriarch knows what she’s doing, unfortunately. You’ll never be able to live it down.”

Ryouta grinned. “Well, if it works…”

He shrugged. Emma kissed him again.

They eventually got around to going back downstairs to the art show. The mood shifted as they descended the elevator. Ryouta’s mind shifted, sharpening and focusing in a way that Emma hadn’t seen before. By the time the elevator reached the ground floor, he was fully focused on the evening’s work.

Vira and Motya were in full dress uniform in a small atrium off to the side and hidden from view. It was a space where booths could be put up for things like conferences and tradeshows, but was now walled off with portable screens to give them, and Emma, a modicum of space to prepare before things began. Ryouta dropped Emma off with an apologetic smile, promising to see her later, but he needed to go prepare. Emma kissed him goodbye, then stepped through the screens.

“Senpai!” said Vira with surprised enthusiasm. “They didn’ tell us you were comin’!”

“Ah, they didn’t tell me you two were coming either,” said Emma, smiling as Vira and Motya crowded around her. They both seemed to vibrate on the spot. “…do you want a hug?”

Vira and Motya responded by latching onto Emma tightly.

“We missed you!” Motya exclaimed, stepping back and putting her hands on her hips in mock admonishment. “You should call more!”

“Ah, well, you know,” said Emma, shuffling a little on the spot. “I’ll uh… I’ll make sure to do it more in the future. How have things been?”

“They been tough,” said Vira. She shrugged one shoulder. “It’s about as expected, all thing’s considered, yah?”

“We’ve been working with the Samsara Militia as part of the Samsaran Garrison,” said Motya. She tugged at the hem of her dress uniform’s jacket and made a face.

“Motya’s been stuck in the labs,” said Vira. She grimaced. “Right borin’ that, but hey, she’s doin’ good work.”

“I’d prefer to be fighting,” said Motya grumpily.

“Eh, I mean, me too, but…”

“Yeah yeah…”

“Well come on, have something to drink,” said Emma, ushering her kouhai towards the refreshments table. “You two are doing demon patrol at least, right?”

“Oh, yeah!” Vira said. “I figured out why I hafta to reload my rifle! It turns out I can load different ammo, so when I’m fightin’ I can string together a combo all on one mag!”

“That’s cool! I’m working with a girl right now who does grenades in a similar way.”

“Ah, hey, maybe you could introduce us later then? She sounds cool.”

“I was going to ask if you two wanted to come demon hunting tomorrow morning.”

“Oh I’m totally down with that!” said Vira. “It’s been way too long since I got to shoot somethin’!”

“Quiet down Vira,” Motya gently admonished with a smile. “But, yes, Emma, I’d be happy to come too.”

“That’s great!” said Emma. “You two remember Mikoto right?”

“Eyy, Miko-chan!”

“Vira!”

“It’s a great nickname and you know it!”

“She’s scheduled for tomorrow morning as well,” Emma continued, rolling her eyes as Motya gave Vira a displeased look that rolled off Vira like water off the back of a tank. “So you can catch up with her too.”

“It sounds like it’s going to be a good time,” said Motya, smiling again. She picked up a pair of champagne glasses and handed them to Emma and Vira. “Champagne?”

The show started. There were a few things that Emma hadn’t realized that Ryouta had forgotten to prepare her for.

Most pressing was the sheer number of people. There were seven other artists at the show, something that Emma had forgotten was happening, and each came with their own attendant fanbase. There was handshaking and excited chatter and exclamations of how wonderful it all was, and the noise alone was nearly maddening. Ryouta flitted in and out of the crowd, sometimes visible and sometimes in the cloud of tuxedos and evening-dresses. It was almost enough to make Emma regret coming.

The other thing she hadn’t realized was how intensely personal the photographs would be. She had stopped paying attention to the drones Ryouta had been flying around very early, and hadn’t realized how close they were and what shots they were taking.

“I don’t remember that one,” said Motya, sipping from a glass of champagne as she looked at a photo of her helping a civilian after a demon attack. “It sort of blurs together, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” said Emma thoughtfully. “I guess it does. After you save a few civilians, it’s pretty routine.”

“Eh, senpai, do you really feel that way?” asked Vira.

“A little,” said Emma, shrugging. “Especially on big patrols.”

Vira made a displeased noise but didn’t question Emma further.

The show moved on to the team’s failed escort mission, and then its actions in stalling the cephalopod offensive that came after. Ryouta’s drones had captured the mundanities leading up to the first hit and the chaos that followed. The most important photographs, however, came from the image feed that Ryouta had pulled from the girls’ implants.

“I forgot he was using our eyes to see,” Vira muttered, glancing away from a photo of the devastation. It was a shot from her vantage point on the top of the train station during the battle, overseeing half the battleground. It was just after the first nuclear weapon had dropped, vaporizing a chunk of the buildings and forcing open a breach in the line. From Vira’s vantage point, it had been possible to see distinctly where the infantry had rallied, where the incoming fire was hitting, and, critically, how the magical girls in the area were responding.

A streak of blue slashed across the scene. Emma didn’t need the caption to remember leading that charge.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” said Emma quietly, nudging Vira with a small smile.

“I know, it’s dumb, but…”

Motya huffed a little. “I told you it was creepy.”

“Creepy’s got nothin’ to do with it!” Vira harrumphed. “It’s just…”

“It is a little invasive,” said Ryouta, appearing behind them from the crowd with champagne and hors d’oeuvres balanced on a tray. “Ladies?”

Vira and Motya accepted the food and drink with thanks.

“I’m good,” said Emma with an apologetic smile. “Sorry for making you get extra.”

“No worries,” said Ryouta breezily. He gave Vira a raised eyebrow as she swallowed her hors d’oeuvre whole. “I imagine it will be taken care of summarily.”

“How is the show going?” asked Emma. “I saw you talking to the people. Anything interesting?”

“Oh, no, it’s a bit early,” said Ryouta. He sipped his champagne. “There’s too many fanpeople taking selfies, and nobody wants to get splashed onto the tabloids.”

“Does that happen a lot?” asked Vira, picking up the spare hors d’oeuvre and holding it suspended in front of her mouth.

“Unfortunately, yes,” said Ryouta. “It can range from being a bit of harmless teasing all the way to career-ending rumors that nobody can stop. So we all avoid it.”

The girls pondered this for a moment, the silence broken only by the hors d’oeurve crunching as Vira bit into it. Motya quietly scolded her for getting crostini crumbs across the front of her dress uniform.

“Why does anyone pay attention to that stuff anyway?” Emma asked, brow furrowing. “The tabloids were a problem in football, sure, but everyone knew that what you did on the field was more important than some blogger’s opinion. Isn’t art the same way?”

“Well, the art world is fickle,” sighed Ryouta. “There’s a few people doing progressive work and setting trends. All the rest of us—” he smiled self-deprecatingly “—try and follow along as best we can. So unless you can prove that you’re the best of the best…”

Emma grimaced. That she had felt before, all too keenly. “I see. I guess it’s just less forgiving than football. Or maybe I just got out early enough for it not to matter.”

Ryouta shrugged and smiled apologetically. “I can’t say for sure, obviously.”

There was another moment of silence.

“What’s with the doom and gloom, girls?” asked someone at Emma’s elbow. The group collectively jumped at the sight of the girl who had appeared next to them in a dress of fluttering, sheer silk that was modest only by virtue of the layers that wrapped around her.

“Aunt Sayaka!” said Ryouta, setting the tray on a passing drone and reaching out to hug the head of his matriarchy. “Ah, girls, this is Aunt Sayaka, head of the Shizuki Matriarchy. Aunt Sayaka, this is Vira, Motya, and Emma, who I was working with out in Samsara.”

“No bowing!” said Sayaka quickly, holding out a proclamatory finger, before grinning cheerfully when nobody moved. “Good! You young ones always make me feel old when you do that. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Vira and Motya made vague, slightly dazed noises, while Emma remained unimpressed but replied politely. Sayaka seemed used to the interaction, though Emma thought she saw a momentary raised eyebrow sent her way.

“Now as I said, what’s with the doom and gloom?” Sayaka asked, waving a gloved arm that sparkled with gems. “This is a grand occasion, is it not?”

“We were talking about the tabloids,” said Ryouta.

“Ah, that explains it,” said Sayaka with a sympathetic nod. “Tabloid journalism is always depressing to talk about. Come, let’s talk about something happier. I want to introduce you all to someone.”

The person turned out to be a minor celebrity of some kind that Emma didn’t recognize but everyone else did. She smiled and nodded politely, but couldn’t honestly say that she was terribly interested.

“Not into films then, Emma?” asked Sayaka over private telepathy.

“It’s never been my thing,” said Emma.

“Ryouta says that your ‘thing’, so to speak, is football?”

“That’s correct…”

“A pity that there aren’t any football players here tonight,” said Sayaka breezily, “and Ryouta-kun is very busy. You must be bored.”

“It’s not so bad,” said Emma, shrugging mentally. “Ryouta seems to be doing well.”

“It is a good night for him,” said Sayaka. “The exhibits will be staying for a few months in each of the cities, but opening night is always the most important.”

“What happens afterwards?”

“Oh, different artists do different things,” said Sayaka. She sipped her champagne. “Ryouta-kun is a photojournalist though, and if he gets good reviews he’ll be in demand. It will be important to capitalize; strike while the iron is hot, so to speak. If things work out right, maybe you two will be able to spend more time together.”

Emma blinked, and turned to Sayaka. The Ancient winked at her.

“What’s the catch?” Emma asked.

“Catch?” asked Sayaka. “I’m not sure what you mean. I’m just saying that it’d be perfectly reasonable for you to go back into combat with Ryouta attached to your unit as a journalist.”

“Maybe,” said Emma. “But I have a suspicion that it’s not that easy.”

“Generally speaking, artists of Ryouta’s age don’t get the chance to go into a warzone,” agreed Sayaka. “Samsara was a fluke. If he wants to go down this career path, he will be competing with some genuinely great journalists. The more prestigious someone is, the more likely it is that they’ll have the chance to see the big events in human history. It’s just how it is.”

Emma sipped her champagne and grimaced. There was a lot that was said about the Shizuki Matriarchy, both good and bad. Most magical girls under the matriarchy had a tendency of getting nice jobs behind the frontlines, or if they were in combat, ascending a little more quickly than their peers. It wasn’t that they were exactly getting favoritism, so to speak, especially with so much on the line. They worked hard, same as everyone else, but…

“This isn’t really a social visit.”

“Oh it is,” said Sayaka, a frisson of amusement bubbling over telepathy. “I may be a smug, conniving matriarch, but I do genuinely want my descendants to have good romantic relationships. It just also happens that you can help me help him, which will help you. It’s all very mutually beneficial.”

“Uh huh. And I don’t suppose that my family has any influence on your thinking here.”

“Well, it’s true that it’d be nice for HSIS to be more reasonable about things,” said Sayaka. “But, well, I’m also sure that we can come to some sort of agreement.”

Emma suppressed a sigh. “Is that an offer?”

“I suppose.”

“Then you’ll have to talk to my sister about the details,” said Emma. “This isn’t my playing field.”

“Yes, I’ve gathered,” said Sayaka with a laugh. “Very well, here are my contact details—” a message passed through the corner of Emma’s interface “—for later, when you want to talk.”

Emma was tempted to roll her eyes, but sipped her champagne instead.

“Sure.”


	12. Les Chevaliers

By the time the art show had ended, and the afterparties had been attended, it was nearly two in the morning. There’d been some kind of special dispensation for Ryouta to allow him to temporarily forgo sleep for the evening.

“Thanks for coming with me,” Ryouta said quietly as the door closed behind them in his suite. A light rain had begun to sprinkle down, tapping against the windows and streaking through the lights of the city.

“Of course,” said Emma. “I wanted to spend time with you, after all.”

“I feel like I might not have spent enough time with you, to be honest,” said Ryouta, running a hand through his hair and sighing tiredly. “There was a lot of talking to do.”

Emma shrugged. “It’s part of what you have to do, right? It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Are you sure?”

There was a pause.

“If I’m honest, I don’t know that it’s something I can keep up,” said Emma, leaning against the wall and looking thoughtfully at her toes. “I want— I need time with you alone, obviously.”

Ryouta stepped forward and took Emma’s hands.

“We’ll make sure to do something together,” said Ryouta firmly. “Just the two of us. Tomorrow, maybe, or the day after?”

“If you mean later today…”

“You’re busy I know. I meant tomorrow.”

Emma smiled. “That’d be nice. Did you have someplace in mind?”

“Not yet, but—” Ryouta was interrupted by a jaw-cracking yawn, “but I’ll think of something.”

“Alright, but you better get to bed,” said Emma. “It’s late.”

“Stay with me?” asked Ryouta, rubbing an eye sleepily. “I want… it’d be nice if you could.”

Emma smiled and patted Ryouta’s head. “Of course.”

Morning dawned unusually bright and cold. Emma was glad that it had at least stopped raining, which made it better than Samsara by a good margin. She had left Ryouta nestled in a nest of blankets, waking him just to say goodbye before hopping off the balcony and leaving to meet Kyouko.

Morning training with Kyouko went smoothly, if painfully. Kyouko had apparently decided that another spar was necessary, with the restriction that neither use magic outside of basic strength and durability enhancements. Emma still got smacked around the sparring ring, but Kyouko seemed to find her performance satisfactory.

“I’m just getting a better gauge of your abilities,” Kyouko said after their spar. “Most girls aren’t very good at defending against another magical girl. You seem to have good basic footwork for someone your age, so that’s a start.”

“Thanks, I guess?” Emma asked.

Kyouko shrugged. “Did you talk to anyone about your vision yet?”

“Oh, er, yes, to a few people,” said Emma. “I’m not sure that I learned anything, but it helped me to feel better about the vision.”

“Good,” Kyouko said with a nod. “I agree that it seems pretty straightforward. There’s probably some additional shades of meaning we can glean, but, well, up to you at that point. Have you thought any more about your career?”

Emma grimaced. “Well… I’m still deciding. My dad said I should ask if doing a job shadow with a Soul Guard unit is possible.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t recommend it,” said Kyouko with a face like she’d bitten into a bitter melon. “Let’s be realistic, most jobs are mostly paperwork, but Soul Guard always seemed worse to me. Your average job shadow will mostly be watching people do paperwork and occasionally running errands. I’d say that you would be better off talking to a recruiter. You’ve heard of the Knights of the Goddess?”

Emma nodded. “One of my patrolmates mentioned them to me.”

“Speaking of which, your patrol starts soon,” said Kyouko, glancing at her chronometer. “But alright, good enough. You should go talk to Marianne, over in their offices in the Gatehouse.”

Emma nodded again. She’d have to do it after the patrol.

“I better let you go,” said Kyouko, sighing. “I should do work too. So troublesome.”

Mikoto had been pleased to see Vira and Motya join the patrol, and had greeted them happily. Shoshana and Vivianne were somewhat bemused and indifferent but friendly all the same. It was decided after some debate that, despite her desires otherwise, Motya was probably best suited to running civilians out of the area while dropping vodka bottles as needed. Vira and Vivianne would work together on ranged support, leaving Shoshana and Emma with their traditional roles.

“Lots of people this time,” Shoshana mused aloud as they ran ahead of the main patrol. “It’ll be interesting coordinating you all.”

“It should be fine,” Emma replied. “Vira and Motya are good girls.”

“Yes,” said Shoshana. A sharpened sense of focus rippled across her telepathy as her magic expanded. “I have a contact, location forwarded. A few dozen civilians, nothing too large yet.”

“Roger that,” said Emma. She accelerated, pushing herself through the air as she homed in on the miasma. “Growth rate?”

“Fast. You should nip it in the bud before it expands too much.”

That complicated things a little. “Roger.”

Fast growing miasmas weren’t that rare, but they weren’t common either, and dealing with them was always a pain. It was simple enough to fight one, all the standard tactics applied, but it was always a slog and you risked having a cascading scenario where multiple miasmas began linking up.

Emma’s lips twitched briefly in a smile. She was good at disrupting miasmas before they ever got to that stage.

Emma crested a tower then dove, a burst of magic accelerating her halberd-point-first into, then through a demon, crashing into the ground in a shower of sand. The miasma had spawned over an elementary school, and Emma had landed in a sandbox.

“Shoshana, you forgot to mention this,” Emma growled, firing off a jet of air as she rocketed skyward again.

“What— oh, that’s new,” said Shoshana, a tinge of alarm coloring her telepathy. “I’m sending a crow now, but that’s not the miasma I was looking at.”

Emma blinked and checked her implants. Shoshana was right, Emma was about a kilometer off target.

“Wait, hold on, what’s going on?” Emma asked as she leaped out of the miasma and skidded to a halt just on its edge. “This isn’t right.”

“I don’t—” began Shoshana before she was interrupted:

“Alert, miasma surge detected in grid location 18A,” Juliana called out. “First responders, suppress the demons as best you can, we’re heading in now.”

Emma grimaced. She was in 18A.

“Roger that,” Shoshana called back. “Team Three, be advised, I’m switching to control and won’t be mobile.”

“I’ll cover you,” Motya volunteered.

“Good. Emma, targets?”

“Painting them now.”

Emma dived back in, skimming across the rooftops and jungle gyms with Shoshana’s telepathic presence tingling in her skull. They’d practiced doing this before in simulation, but it wasn’t something they’d needed to do in reality before.

“This feels really weird,” Vira groused.

“Shut up and shoot,” Vivianne groused back. “Emma, HE good?”

“For now yeah.”

“Roger that, firing now.”

Emma cleared out of the area, demons flickering red on her vision as Shoshana’s magic relayed targeting data back to Vivianne and Vira. A second later, explosive rounds crashed into the area, blowing some demons apart and pushing the others back.

“I have a visual,” Vira intoned, before: “Firing.”

There was a pause, then a staccato crash of gunfire that blitzed its way through five demons, pausing melodramatically before explosions tore their heads off and sent them dissolving into grief cubes.

It was a process that repeated itself with terrible and awesome efficiency as Emma sprinted through the miasma, moving as quickly as she dared without leaving gaps in her team’s coverage. Behind them, the main patrol crashed into the miasma like a tidal wave, tearing its way through and rescuing the civilians trapped within.

Zero casualties so far. Emma hoped they could keep it that way.

“New contact, bearing 011, range five kilometers,” Shoshana called out. “Small miasma, multiple civilians in and around a coffeeshop.”

“Roger that,” Emma said, turning north and accelerating again across the rooftops. Mitakihara’s morning commute rippled beneath her as she ran, streams of traffic splitting off and remerging according to the AI-planned pathing algorithms that controlled everything.

Somehow it struck Emma as distinctly absurd. Maybe it was the level of control, compared to being in battle. It was an odd thought.

“Emma, we’re tied up at the last miasma,” said Vivianne. “Hold up and we’ll rejoin you.”

“Negative, finish up there,” said Emma. She crested another small tower with a burst of air. “Shoshana, miasma status?”

“Holding steady. Looks like it’s only a few civilians, but it has them good and tight. You’ll have to bust them out fast.”

Emma pursed her lips and paused on a roof.

“Actually Vivianne, can you spare Vira?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Vira, converge on me,” Emma ordered. “I want to make sure we save those civilians.”

“Roger that,” said Vira. “Ey, teleporter, can I—”

There was a flash of pink as a stressed-looking teleporter, apparently tied into Shoshana’s telepathic web, dropped Vira unceremoniously next to Emma.

“Sorry, lots of work to do,” the teleporter said with only the smallest hint of contriteness. She vanished in another flash of pink.

“Ass,” Vira groused as she picked herself up.

Emma sniffed in amusement. “Come on, let’s go.”

The rest of the approach to the miasma was almost nostalgic. Emma and Vira came to a stop just on the edge.

“We’ve got the drop on ’em,” Vira muttered. “Charge in, hard and fast?”

Emma paused to think. It was a small store, matching Shoshana’s description, with a patio hanging out over the edge of the building. From Emma and Vira’s vantage point, six civilians were visible on the patio, and their implants said that sensors in the area had recorded no more than an additional eighteen inside. By a coincidence of geometry, the coffeeshop was slightly isolated from its surroundings, just enough that an alert was able to clear out the region and keep any additional civilians from getting caught in the miasma. The chuen the coffeeshop was located in was otherwise unremarkable.

“Start at the patio and then move inwards,” said Emma after a moment’s consideration. “Otherwise, sounds good. I’ll go in first and mark targets. You shoot and cover me as needed while I pull civilians out of the line of fire. Hopefully we’ll be fast enough that we cross the threshold for this miasma.”

“Works for me,” said Vira, licking her lips and readying her rifle. “Let’s get started.”

“Alright,” said Emma. She gathered her magic. “Ready?”

“O’course.”

“Go!”

The two of them ran forward side-by-side, then split off. Emma jinked right, circling around to parallel the storefront as Vira found a good vantage point across the way. An abrupt turn to dodge a laser blast sent Emma ricocheting across the restaurant’s patio in a blast of wind, her trajectory locked on a pair of diners slumped in their chairs at the far end. Bullets crashed through demons as fast as Vira could cycle her weapon, dropping grief cubes in the wake of Emma’s passing.

The first two civilians were rescued smoothly, and the demons on the patio had been decimated. It was an impressive amount of destruction, all things considered, but it wasn’t enough. The miasma pulsed in Emma’s consciousness, more demons spilling out of the interior, where the majority of the civilians were, and zeroing in on her. Vira reacted with gunfire, maintaining as high a volume as she could manage while Emma finished her next two passes, clearing the patio and buying the two of them a moment’s reprieve.

“Grief cubes,” Emma intoned, pulling out a handful and pressing them against her soul gem. “Let’s recharge and get ready.”

“Roger that,” said Vira, blowing out a slow breath. “We’re doin’ good, yeah?”

“Yeah,” said Emma, allowing herself to smile a little. “This must be what it felt like back before the MSY.”

“What do you mean?”

“Two girls taking on a whole miasma with no backup and questionable grief cube yield,” said Emma, chuckling. “I mean, it sounds pretty dystopian, doesn’t it?”

“Huh. I guess.”

“Anyway, ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s move.”

Emma burst forward again, landing just in front of the door leading to the patio and slicing it off its hinges with a swipe of her halberd. A blast of laser fire skimmed past her nose. Emma flinched to the side, then fired back with a jolt of wind, sending the demon behind the door crashing into its fellows with an unearthly wail.

“You okay?” Vira asked.

“Fine,” Emma called back. She darted inside and waved her hand at the windows, a jet of air blowing them out into the patio and leaving Vira with a clear line of fire.

“Thanks,” said Vira, before rattling out a spread of bullets. The space was too confined for the demons to maneuver, and they were too weak to spawn on top of Vira and force her back. The fight was, consequently, short.

“Command, this is Team Three, Element Two,” Emma called out over telepathy as the miasma evaporated around her, leaving the store undamaged and the civilians slowly blinking to awareness.

“Go ahead, Element Two,” said Juliana.

“Command, we’ve cleared the miasma on grid-location two-zero bravo,” Emma reported. “Requesting update on next objective.”

“Hold your position, Element Two,” said Juliana. “Patrol will finish up here and then join you for final mop up. Conduct standard recovery actions for now.”

“Roger that, Command,” said Emma as Vira landed on the patio with two of the civilians Emma had recovered earlier. The shaken pair thanked her profusely, much to Vira’s embarrassment. “We’ll see you soon.”

The patrol ended with much less excitement than it had begun. Juliana spent more time than Emma thought was strictly necessary going over the patrol’s response during the debriefing, but frankly speaking they’d made an exemplary show of it. There had been no civilian casualties, and only a few magical girls wounded. All the wounded had been young girls without a lot of experience, and none of the wounds were bad enough to need hospital time. Mikoto had been one of them, catching a laser across her chest, but her summon had blocked it quickly and she’d fallen back to heal in good order.

“Good work,” Emma said to Mikoto as the debriefing broke up. “You took a hit, but you made sure there weren’t any gaps in your area of responsibility before you pulled out. Most new girls freak out.”

“Thanks,” said Mikoto, blushing a little. “Ah, I mean, it wasn’t that good. I shouldn’t have gotten hit in the first place. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“That just takes practice,” said Emma, patting Mikoto on the shoulder. “It’ll take some time, but you’ll be better by the time you deploy. How are classes going?”

“They’re going well!” said Mikoto. “The careers advisor was right about how I’d get up to speed quick. I talked to my instructor and she gave me a recommendation to audit a few of the advanced classes. They’re pretty cool!”

“Learn anything new?”

“Yeah! Sort of,” said Mikoto. She laughed sheepishly. “Well, honestly, I don’t really understand anything, but you can sorta guess and it sorta works? It’s super fun!”

“And no tests?”

“No tests!”

Emma chuckled and restrained the urge to ruffle Mikoto’s hair. “Sounds nice.”

“Oh, but what about you?” asked Mikoto. “You’ve been doing stuff right? My classmates say that they saw you talking to Kyouko!”

“Oh, Kyouko offered to give me polearm training and I accepted,” said Emma with a shrug. “It’s just basic stuff, nothing too crazy.”

“That’s so cool though!”

“It’s not that cool,” said Emma. She rubbed her arm at a phantom pain. “She hits really hard.”

Mikoto made an unidentifiable noise. “Yeah but, it’s still Kyouko.”

Emma huffed a laugh. “I guess. You should get to class though, it’s starting soon isn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah, I should go,” said Mikoto. “Uh, maybe we can talk later?”

“Sure.”

“Great! See you, Emma!”

Mikoto could only be said to scamper off, joining up with a group of girls and heading to class. Emma watched her go with a slowly dropping expression. It was really very depressing that the war was happening. There was a time, Emma knew, when she and Mikoto and everyone else would have been able to go about their lives normally, but as it stood, there wasn’t anything she could do but deal with things as they came. For now…

Emma sighed and made her way out of the Refectory. It felt like a lifetime had passed since she’d been able to just wander around with nothing to do. At the time, she remembered, she’d been horribly bored. Horribly angry, to be here, in Mitakihara, to not be at football practice and doing the thing she’d loved.

The truth was that she could have gone to football practice with the local club, but she’d been too focused on what she’d lost instead of what she had. It made Emma wonder, now, with a little perspective, what her life would have been like if she’d exchanged her London scarlet for Mitakihara blue.

Ah well. Too late now. And besides, becoming a magical girl had its own perks.

With another sigh, Emma headed for the Gatehouse. The Church had no real need for a Gatehouse, being as it was on Earth, but it still was there for the sake of the idea. A church, an abbey or cathedral, really, needed a gatehouse. It was Proper, with a capital P, even if it was possibly a little controversial.

The Church seemed lighter today. Maybe it was just compensating for the weather, but the halls seemed brighter, with light bouncing across the walls and distant hymns echoing throughout the hallowed spaces. Idly, Emma thought of the sermon she planned to attend at the end of the week, and wondered whether or not the contents were ever discussed afterwards. It sounded like one of those things that could either go brilliantly or utterly horrifically.

She hoped it was the former.

The hallways of the Church opened up into the main courtyard. Walkways guided Emma’s feet as they wandered towards the Gatehouse. A brief moment of trepidation held her still on the threshold, before a familiar, shy magical girl opened the door.

“Oh! Emma!” said Lin Ogino, surprised but decidedly happy. “I didn’t expect to see you again. How are you?”

“I’m doing well,” said Emma, brushing back her hair with a returning smile. “How about yourself? Did the, uh, missionary work go well?”

“Oh, it was fine,” said Lin with a blush and a shrug. “I uh, ran into a few skeptics and had some trouble, but I’m told that’s to be expected and I’ll grow from the experience.”

“That’s good. I’m glad for you.”

“Thanks!” said Lin with another smile. “But um, I’m supposed to be a receptionist today. How can I help you?”

“Oh, uh, I was told to speak to someone named Marianne about the Soul Guard?” Emma said. She shuffled her feet awkwardly. “Kyouko said that her office was here in the Gatehouse?”

“Oh! Yes, I can take you to her,” said Lin. She stepped back to let Emma in. “Please, come in!”

“Thank you for having me,” said Emma, bowing briefly at the door before stepping inside. She shucked her shoes off in exchange for the offered sandals, then followed Lin through the Gatehouse’s genkan and into its interior.

For some reason, Emma had expected the Gatehouse’s interior design to reflect the sort of classical fantasy archetypes of bare, stone walls and exposed wooden pillars. Quite to the contrary, the Gatehouse was largely plastered, then whitewashed, with calligraphy or paintings spaced evenly throughout. Between the understated works of art were sliding doors, constructed in the traditional Japanese fashion, with paper stretched between bamboo frames which allowed flickering candlelight to cast dancing shadows across each surface.

“So, erm, these are the offices of the Knights of the Goddess,” said Lin. She sounded like she was reciting from a script, without as much practice as she might have necessarily wanted. “We, er—”

“You don’t need to give me the tour,” said Emma with a small smile. “Really. It’s fine.”

“Oh jeez, thanks,” sighed Lin, sagging in relief. “I really don’t like doing the speech.”

“Are you sure you ought to keep doing this if you dislike it so much?”

“I should,” said Lin. Her expression flickered into hard, determined lines. “I need to push myself out of my comfort zone.”

There was a pause as Emma looked askance at Lin, the other girl slowing in midstep to stare at the ground in silence.

The moment passed, and Lin was glancing up shyly at Emma through her bangs again with an embarrassed blush that made Emma blink at the whiplash.

“Anyway, I was saying that the Knights are sort of a… I guess you’d call it a monastic order,” said Lin, brushing her bangs back. “It’s not really a monastic order. There’s no vows. The rumors are still crazy, heh, but we’re also religious, you know? It’s sort of a weird in-between.”

“Er, well, I mean, it doesn’t seem like a nunnery, at least.”

“It’s not intended to be,” said Lin, nodding. “The Knights of the Goddess are really a service organization that’s attached to the Cult, but we borrowed a lot of the rituals from history to be more organized and have a clear structure to how we do things.”

“What do you mean by ‘service’?” asked Emma. “I would have thought…”

She trailed off. It sounded nice, but, well, charity wasn’t very useful when half of the human species lived in a post-scarcity society, was it?

“Well, that’s sort of up to you, but I can’t explain more,” said Lin. She smiled mysteriously. “This is Marianne’s office. Do you need anything else?”

Emma blinked at her. “Er, no, thanks.”

“Alright, then I hope you find what you’re looking for!”

Emma watched Lin leave, disappearing down a side hall with a flick of her shirt around the corner and a flash of a smile. That had been… odd. Informative, but odd.

She shook her head and changed tracks, focusing back on Marianne’s office. The door was plain and unadorned, with the same bamboo-and-paper construction of every other. The only distinctive element was a small slip of paper in a plain, dark wooden frame to the right of the door. Three kanji had been written on it: “o-shou-gun”.

“That… doesn’t translate well,” Emma muttered to herself as she stared at it quizzically. “Head— no, er, General Priest? What does that mean? Is that supposed to be a pun?”

“Yes it is,” Marianne said from inside the room. Emma flinched, turning red in embarrassment. “I apologize for eavesdropping, but the doors are very thin. Please come in.”

Emma slid back the door and stepped across the threshold onto a patch of tiles set into the floor. A small message appeared in Emma’s vision inviting her to remove her sandals and place them into the cabinet on the right.

“Would you like some tea?” asked Marianne from the raised tatami mats that covered the floor of her office. Like many magical girls on deployment, she had taken the same physical age as when she’d contracted, and seemed at first glance to be an unremarkable twelve-year-old wearing unusually austere blacks and grays. She was so short that, even standing on the mats, she had to look up slightly to meet Emma’s eyes.

“I would, thanks,” said Emma, blinking as she took off her sandals.

Marianne bowed, a smooth steady motion that carried the quiet confidence of someone much older, expecting that the world would bend to her unflinching will. “I apologize that I only have green tea, but I trust that you will enjoy it either way.”

“It’s fine,” said Emma, bowing back a little hesitantly. “I, um, I’m used to the flavor by now.”

“I understand you come from England?” Marianne said as she turned, beckoning for Emma to follow. “I’m from France, myself.”

Emma checked her nomenclator. Marianne’s last name was “Valois”, which was about as French as was possible. The room, on the other hand, was traditional Japanese. It was small, kept very neat, with clean white paper contrasting against black lacquer overlooking tatami mats on the floor. In the corner, a small fountain burbled gently in front of a wall scroll.

“I originally come from Paris, back before the war,” Marianne continued as she gestured for Emma to sit and levitated a tea tray to the immaculately clean desk in the same motion. Four small cups, an unglazed, dark red teapot, and a cast iron kettle of water clinked against each other as the tray came to rest. “I was deployed with the rest of the Soul Guard after New Athens. Afterwards, Mitakihara was… easier, than trying to return to Paris. Do you have any specific preference for green tea?”

Emma shook her head. “Why was Mitakihara easier?”

“There were many reasons,” said Marianne as she opened a small cabinet next to her desk and rifled through it. “Ultimately, it was the path of least resistance.”

“Ah. I see.”

The room fell silent as Marianne shifted small canisters of tea around, finally selecting one after a few minutes of searching.

“The tea I will be serving you today is a typical sencha from Ishiyama Plantation,” she said, settling onto her chair across from Emma and popping open the tea canister, then pouring a portion into a small ceramic bowl. The deep emerald of the tea leaves stood vibrant against the white glaze, each individual leaf curled tightly into a thin sliver as bright as any gemstone. Marianne eyed the pile critically, then capped the canister and floated it back to the cabinet, which shut with a quiet click. “I assume you’ve never had this before.”

“No.”

“Good, it will be a new experience for you,” said Marianne. She turned to the kettle, focusing her eyes on it before raising one hand and pulling a stream of steaming water out of the kettle and into the empty teapot, where it swirled round and round.

“You’re very good at that,” Emma said, squinting a little. Normally, it would have been possible to feel the magic radiating off of the water as it swirled around, but Emma could sense nothing. “How—?”

“Practice, and boredom,” said Marianne, laughing a little as she pulled the water through the spout of the teapot with her free hand. The ribbon of water gracefully slipped through first one, then another teacup, swishing through like a child down a playground slide before tumbling into a decanter with the pitter patter of small boots in rain puddles.

“You must have been very bored,” said Emma solemnly.

Marianne laughed again and pulled a bucket out from under the desk. She poured the decanter of water in and set it back down. “Yes, very. What did you do before you became a magical girl?”

“I played football,” said Emma, shifting a little while she watched the emerald needles tumble into the teapot. One leaf caught a wisp of air as it fell, swirling up and away to flutter onto the surface of the desk.

“Which club?”

“London FC.”

“Why did you leave?”

“…Reasons.”

“Mm. I see.”

Hot water swirled out of the water kettle and into the teapot. Marianne put the lid on with a small click.

“So you wished to learn more about the Knights,” said Marianne, sitting back and folding her hands on the desk. “Do you have a specific question?”

“I uh, not really,” said Emma, looking embarrassed. “I don’t know much about you guys.”

“That’s typical,” said Marianne, nodding. “Most of our Pages are not well informed when they begin. I suppose, then, I should begin by saying that our Order was founded very recently, and tries not to take itself too seriously. The first members of the Knights of the Goddess took their oaths together just after Kyouko founded the Church of Hope. As members of the Church, we found strength in our shared faith and in what we believed to be our solemn duty. At the same time, as I’m sure you know, it would be folly to worship the Goddess as some rarefied being, and so we have intentionally kept our tenets simple and straightforward.”

Marianne paused to pour the tea, tilting the decanter to allow the stream of water to follow along the walls of the vessel, minimizing any sloshing. She stopped once the pot was half-empty, then guided more hot water in.

“Our tenets are as follows,” Marianne continued, picking up the tea decanter and pouring smoothly into the first cup. “First, live your life in the service of others, for you have been blessed.”

A single drop plinked against the surface of the tea as Marianne paused, the teacup filled just short of its rim, scant enough that none of the hot liquid would slosh onto the hands when the cup was moved, but generous enough to ensure the drinker would be able to fully enjoy the tea.

“Second,” said Marianne as she began pouring the second cup, “build your life in the service of yourself, for the foundation of your strength comes from within.”

Marianne put the decanter down and picked up the second cup. She extended it towards Emma, bowing slightly. Emma took the cup and held it, the warmth of the tea spreading into her hands.

Marianne picked up the remaining cup of tea and raised it. “And finally,” she said quietly, “fulfill your life to the utmost of your potential, for your soul is a beacon of hope, a guiding light in the valley of despair.”

With a gesture, she took a sip, inviting Emma to do the same. The tea was rich and nutty, slightly herbal, but with a kind of deep clarity that rang like a temple bell through Emma’s mind and body. Time came to a stop, as if the world had decided that nothing could be more important than this single, crystalline moment, frozen into the fabric of the universe.

Emma swallowed and the world started again. She set the cup down, slightly dazed.

“This is very good tea.”


	13. Reflections

Anna Sinclair liked to think that she made good life decisions.

She’d gone with her gut when she’d decided on her major of study, and everything had worked out well for her. She’d decided against contracting, even though she had the chance, and despite all of Emma’s travails it genuinely did seem like Emma was happier.

So based on that track record, Anna really hoped that she was making the right decision as she stepped out of the air taxi and hurried into the Church of Hope.

She was drawing looks, she knew. Nobody actually booked air taxis these days, not unless the world was literally ending. A few of the magical girls did a double take as they watched her walk by, one of them almost calling out a greeting before their nomenclator kicked in. Not, really, that anyone needed it. Emma never wore suits, not unless their mother had literally rugby tackled her to make it happen.

Anna found her sister in the Rose Garden. Emma looked like she was in some kind of a daze, staring vaguely at a rose blossom with a small smile. She’d been sitting there so long that a sparrow had alighted nearby and was picking curiously at the hem of Emma’s hoodie, inspecting the zip to see if it was edible. It flew away at Anna’s approach, snapping Emma out of her strange mood.

“Oh, Anna, what are you doing here?” asked Emma, blinking away the cobwebs and standing up. “Did I miss lunch?”

“It’s the wrong day for that,” said Anna with a frown, “and even if it wasn’t, I’d have canceled. We need to talk.”

Emma raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”

Anna flicked her hand, projecting a headline onto Emma’s implants. It read: . Underneath was a picture of Emma with Ryouta, Vira, Motya, and Shizuki Sayaka. The photo had been taken as they were laughing at something that Sayaka had said.

Emma raised an eyebrow. “…okay? I mean, yes, I’m sort of dating a Shizuki…”

Anna scowled. “Yes, sure, but in public like this?”

“Yes? Obviously?”

“With Shizuki Sayaka personally chaperoning you?!”

Emma paused. “…okay, I can see how that might be bad.”

“Of course it’s bad!” Anna hissed. She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed very slowly. “I mean, okay, at least you got the message quickly. I was worried I’d have to explain things to you in detail.”

“No, uh, Ryouta mentioned that it was a thing that happened.”

“Which I guess didn’t sink in.”

“Well I mean, it was my first time, Anna. You can’t expect that much out of me.”

The two of them paused, before laughing a little at the unintentional double entendre.

“Alright, well, we need to deal with this,” Anna sighed. She was starting to feel a bit silly now. Maybe she’d overreacted, flying here so quickly. At least Emma understood what had to happen now, even if she’d caused the problem in the first place. “You’re not going to break up with Ryouta, that much is obvious, but we can’t actually just let this lie. The speculation will go out of control and we’ll end up forced to do the merger just to keep our stockholders from having a revolution.”

Emma frowned. “Wait, but I thought HSIS was a privately held corporation?”

“We only control sixty percent of the company,” said Anna. She made an unhappy face. “Strictly speaking, we ought to only have claim over fifty percent, but Ami gave us another ten percent of the company after she got married.”

“How exactly does that work, even?” Emma asked, screwing up her face in confusion. “That never made sense to me. Aren’t we already merged with Shizuki Corp at this point?”

“Mmm… sort of? It doesn’t really count because our family owns majority shares and won’t sell. At best it’s a partnership, but since Mum and Dad literally run the company themselves…”

“Practically, I guess, that just means that the Shizukis don’t get a real say,” said Emma. She scratched her chin. “How is Ami doing anyway?”

“Eh? I mean, she’s fine,” said Anna. “Haven’t you been in contact with her?”

“…No…”

“Emma.”

“I’ve been busy!”

“With your girlfriend and boyfriend?” asked Anna, raising an eyebrow. “Surely not that busy. If you have been, maybe we really should just announce a merger…”

Emma flushed. “No! I didn’t mean… I didn’t mean that.”

“Then you don’t have an excuse, do you?” Anna asked rhetorically with a scolding look. “Put it on your calendar. And come on, we need to figure out a plan. That photo of you is already all over the news sites.”

“Well okay, fine, but we’re getting lunch,” said Emma. She gestured for Anna to follow. “You’ve never eaten here right?”

“Does the Church do something special?” asked Anna. Her heels clicked against the stone walkway as they made their way into the Church. “I’d have thought it was mostly just replicator food?”

“Well, sort of,” said Emma. “I mean, it is just a replicator, but Kyouko put in a bunch of custom recipes that you can’t get anywhere else, so it’s at least a little unique.”

“Ah.”

They walked in silence. Anna took the opportunity to take a few retinal stills of the inside of the Church. It was very unique architecture, and the atmosphere was totally unique. You couldn’t get this sort of experience outside of a VR sim, and Anna didn’t have the allocs to do that.

She also took the opportunity to observe her sister. Emma was… different. There was something about her that was lighter, as if a weight had been lifted. Maybe she was just being influenced by the weird religion she’d joined, but even so, it made Anna take note. Emma had been much more conflicted when she’d landed back on Earth, and she’d never really managed to pull her way out of the funk she’d been in. Not until today.

“So, really, you’ve been taken things slow with Ayane and Ryouta?” Anna asked casually, flicking open a document to read as they walked.

“Yeah,” said Emma. “I mean, it’s only been the one date each, and I don’t want to just jump in without everyone being on the same page, you know?”

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” said Anna, glancing at Emma with a raised eyebrow. “Have you had secret girlfriends in the past without me knowing?”

“First of all, I still like boys,” said Emma, waving a finger at Anna. “Second of all, no, because I didn’t date when I was playing football, and you know all about my life right after we moved.”

Anna grimaced and flipped the page. “That’s fair. It’s just that people our age usually have more drama in their relationships.”

“Well, that’s true,” said Emma, folding her arms thoughtfully. “I dunno. It just seemed like a dick move, you know?”

“Yeah, I understand.”

“Nothing on your end?”

“What, romantically?” asked Anna, laughing a little. “Nooooo. That’s a terrible idea right now.”

“Internship blues?”

“Not even. I mean, yeah, it’s hard, but it’s finishing up. It’s more that I have way too much coming my way when I join Mum and Dad at the office.”

Emma shuddered. “And that’s why I got the hell out.”

“It’s not that bad,” said Anna. “Especially if we were both there. We could split the work, you know? It’d be a little easier.”

“Yeah, except you’d have to babysit me,” said Emma, rolling her eyes. “To keep me from wandering off.”

“Maybe before you became a magical girl,” said Anna, looking at the ground a little sadly. “But you’ve changed a lot since then.”

Emma came to a stop, looking at Anna strangely. “I guess I have.”

“Mum and Dad have noticed too,” said Anna, smiling wryly. “Don’t think that they haven’t. Mum has all sorts of ideas.”

“I’ll bet.”

“Come on, you should be more optimistic,” said Anna, nudging Emma with a grin. “It could be fun!”

Emma gave Anna the flattest look she could muster.

“Let’s just go eat lunch.”

“You know, what you really need is to be more visible doing things not related to the company,” Anna said with a contemplative expression.

Emma paused in her spooning of sauce onto a piece of meat. “What do you mean?”

“I’m just thinking out loud, really,” said Anna. She rested her cheek against a hand and stared at the table in distant silence while Emma slowly raised an eyebrow at her. Eventually, Anna spoke again: “Like, ultimately, everything would be easier if people just didn’t really think you were part of the company anymore.”

“I mean, that’s true,” said Emma. “You’d think that people would think that already though. It’s not like I do much right now.”

“Yeah, but since you always were supposed to be part of the company, people are just assuming that when you do things, it’s reflective of how the rest of the company is thinking.”

Emma made an annoyed expression and stabbed a piece of potato. “That’s stupid.”

“It’s what it is.”

The pair sat unhappily for a moment.

Emma sighed. She flicked open her interface to check her social media accounts, and for any alerts she might have accrued. There were a few pieces of junk that she deleted and added to her spam filter. Two messages were from Alanis and Agapita, both looking to catch up sometime. And one was from Dr. Hang, reminding her that they were meeting to make brownies tomorrow.

“Oh, you know, I’m meeting a scientist tomorrow,” said Emma. She forwarded the message to Anna. “She wants to have me work on her experiments, or something. Does that help with the whole gossip situation?”

Anna considered the message. “That’s pretty interesting. Do you know what sort of experiments?”

Emma shook her head. “I was sort of strong-armed into the deal.”

“But if it works out in our favor…”

“I’ll uh, make sure to take notes?”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” said Anna. She attacked her food with renewed interest, gears clearly turning in her head. “I’ll talk to mum about it a little and see what she thinks.”

Emma sighed. That was not a conversation she was looking forward to.

“Cheer up!” said Anna. “With some luck, you and your romantic flings will just be interesting background noise that nobody pays attention to.”

Emma made a displeased noise and bit into a piece of beef. “What about my holdings at the company? I’ve never actually done anything with my shares. It seems a waste to just leave them.”

“I could probably take them over, yeah,” said Anna with a frown. “But I mean, do you really want to do that? It’s a pretty drastic step.”

“I guess,” said Emma. She poked a potato section moodily. “I guess there’s no reason to jump the shark unless it becomes a serious problem. It just feels like I should do something with them, especially since once I go back to the front it’ll be hard to find time to talk to you.”

“Come to the office then,” said Anna earnestly. “Everyone’s wondering where you are, anyway.”

“Why do they care?”

“Really?” Anna asked. “You can’t figure that out for yourself? You’re the boss’s kid and a magical girl. You’ve just come back from one the most important military campaigns in human history. No matter how you spin it, that’s pretty cool.”

Emma snorted. “You realize that none of that is actually good?”

“Of course,” said Anna. “I remember what you told me in our calls. But the people at the office don’t and even if they’re wrong, it’s still worth showing up. It’d be a huge boost to office morale, even if it doesn’t make any sense, to know that they have their very own magical girl cheering them on.”

“Oh Goddess, Anna, really?” Emma groaned. She set her fork down with a small clack and buried her face in her hands. “You want me to be the team mascot?”

“Nothing so plebeian,” Anna sniffed as she sat back, sipping at her tea. “Making you ‘team mascot’ would be demeaning. You’re more than that. It’s like, mmm, having a kingdom’s princess come down and spend some time with the people. It’s nice.”

Emma gave Anna a very unamused look. “I’m not a princess.”

“Neither am I.”

“Then why can’t you do it?”

“Because I’m not a magical girl.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“It has to do with everything, Emma!” Anna said in exasperation. “Come on! You can’t seriously be blind to how important being a magical girl is? It’s a one-in-ten-thousand chance of a lifetime for someone our age, and everyone knows how important magical girls are for the war. This matters.”

“I do a job,” Emma said flatly, stabbing a potato with a loud clink. “It’s just a job. It’s not something anyone should glorify. I got Mikoto contracted, yes, but she wanted to help. It’s different.”

“It’s not about glory,” said Anna. She sighed and rubbed at her brow. “I— look, just think about it? Talk to Ayane or someone about it. Please. I know it’d mean a lot to the office if you’d even take a few minutes just to visit and say hi.”

Emma sighed again. “Alright, fine. I’ll think about it.”

The week’s evening sermon with Kyouko was generally small, but well attended, held in one of the cozier chapels. Emma found herself seated somewhere near the middle, holding a small cup of something lightly alcoholic, bubbly, and sweet. Kyouko was already at the head of the room, fussing with something on the lectern while the last stragglers began to make their way in. Finally, exactly on time, Kyouko tapped the top of the lectern. The room fell silent.

“Good evening!” Kyouko began. “How’s everybody doing?”

Emma glanced around somewhat awkwardly as the members of the congregation made various positive sounding noises.

“Alright, good, good, sounds like we’re all doing okay,” Kyouko continued. She spread her arms wide. "Thank you, everybody, for coming. Looks like there’s a few new faces here! We’re glad to have you! If this is your first time at the Church, our mentors today are Malundama and Devika, and are seated in the back rows, over there. If you want more information after the sermon, feel free to speak with them. As always, for everyone, if you have any questions about today’s sermon, please hold onto them, and we’ll have a Q&A session once we’re all finished. Now if everyone’s situated, let’s begin.

I’d like to talk today about the role of the Church.

Yes, yes, it’s not the most interesting of topics. Trust me, I fell asleep more than once writing this sermon. But I think it’s an important topic. It’s easy to pretend that it’s an easy question to answer. That we magical girls stand far enough apart that we don’t really need to worry about what the Church’s role is. I mean, after all, the Cult of Hope is a religion for magical girls, is it not? It’s there for magical girls, and that’s all there is to it, right?

Okay, sure. But there for… what?

It’s a surprising question isn’t it? For what? Because we’re not like any other religion. The Goddess saves you from despair regardless of whether or not you believe. You can swear up and down for five hundred years that the Goddess is a joke, and She will still save you when your time comes. This is the kind of Goddess we worship, and that’s precisely the reason why we worship her, but then what role do we serve outside of that? Why do I even spend time here talking to you when, really, there’s no objective reason to do so? The Goddess protects, and the Goddess will always protect, whether I waste my time up here or not.

Well there’s a hint to the answer to this question in one of our other doctrines. We say that the Goddess does not like being worshipped with holy scripture and ceremony, based on what Homura has taught us about Her. A Goddess like this surely cannot really like being worshipped, period, at least in the traditional sense. Instead we say that we worship Her through our lives and our actions, and that by guarding and saving humanity, we exemplify Her belief that humanity is worth saving.

So perhaps the Church is supposed to be the vanguard of this guardianship. The chosen warriors of the Goddess, striving forward to lead the way and save humanity from anything that threatens it! Oorah! For the Goddess!

Yeah, no. That’s clearly false. How many of us are on the front lines, every day, fighting for humanity? I’m certainly not. I’m ‘too valuable’. And so are many of you. Some of our number have taken their own vows on this subject, and it is with great humility that I acknowledge the Knights of the Goddess and their efforts to be the example of what guarding humanity ought to look like, but that is not the path that most of us have taken. The magical girls on the front lines who do not believe far outnumber the ones who do, and even then we are not somehow imbued with holy power that allows us to drive the enemy before us.

We are ordinary. Ordinary magical girls, who live ordinary lives, or at least as ordinary as we can in this day and age. So ultimately, we don’t actually have any kind of real power, at least not alone. We fight alongside our sisters in arms, and it is only together, with our sisters, that most of us can even begin to honor the Goddess with our actions.

So what now? If we are not some holy vanguard, then what are we?

Well perhaps, instead, we are some kind of magical girl support group. That’s not a joke either. We are a community who live and work together, helping each other in times of need and supporting each other in times of struggle. The MHD is important, of course, but technically the MHD refers girls to us as much as we refer girls to the MHD, so maybe that’s what sets us apart. Maybe we’re the only group out there that can solve the problems that the MHD can’t.

But that’s also not quite right, because, well, let’s be honest with ourselves. The MHD can solve a lot of problems, and the number of cases that the MHD sends to the Church is a tiny fraction of the cases that they handle every day. Even if the MHD didn’t exist, our sisters in arms are not exactly helpless. Magical girls all over human space help each other live their lives every day without a drop of any assistance that we might provide. We, the Church, simply are not that important.

So then what are we? Do we have any purpose?

Well I guess I don’t really have a definite explanation. No ten-word answer that can lead an army or win hearts and minds or do anything major or important. But let me tell you what I think.

I think the Church is here to be a light for others in dark places, when even magical girls have lost their way, and all other lights have gone out.

Back in the day, and I do mean way back in the day, when Homura and Mami and Yuma and I were starting the MSY, life was really dark. You struggled day by day to try and keep your friends and yourself alive. And you didn’t—"

Kyouko coughed, and took a sip of water.

"Sorry. You didn’t always succeed. It’s a lot like that with the war now, and it’s easy to get stuck in the weeds, out there in the mud and the rain, and not see a way out.

But we know differently, don’t we? We members of this Church know that in this universe, for us magical girls, it’s never that dark. It’s never that bleak. Because out there, in the vast beyond, the Goddess is pulling for us. She’s cheering us on and encouraging us to do our best. She wants us to succeed, and do more than just survive, day by day. She wants us to thrive.

And so, even when our sisters around us can’t see the light anymore, we know better. We know that there’s always hope. And this means that, in times where it seems like there’s no way out, that our role is to be the light our sisters need. To shine brightly in the darkness.

That’s what I think this Church is here for. That’s why I get up every day to do this, even if the paperwork is really hellish sometimes. I believe that, even though I’m here in Mitakihara, that every magical girl I can reach is another magical girl who can keep her light shining just a little bit longer. That everyone who joins the Church is another magical girl who can help keep that light shining on every battlefield across human space. I believe that each and every one of you has the ability to be that light, and that together, a little bit at a time, you can bring humanity hope."


	14. Pivot Point

It was six thirty-six and fourteen seconds in the morning.

Emma knew this because she had started bouncing the football from foot to foot at exactly six thirty-five and 48 seconds. She hadn’t picked up a football in a few years now, but it seemed that she’d retained some of her muscle memory. Being a magical girl helped a lot, it seemed. More than she’d hoped. The ball kept slowing down as it approached her foot, and she couldn’t tell if it was because of instinctual telekinesis or if her perception was just accelerating itself.

The chain-link gate to the football pitch clanked behind Emma.

“G’morning,” a young girl yawned, rubbing at her eyes as she shut the gate behind her. “I didn’t expect anyone to be here this early.”

“Hey,” said Emma, nodding briefly at Fumiko Nozawa. “Sorry, am I in your space?”

“Nah,” said Fumiko. She was dressed in a sky-blue and white football uniform, with black cleats and socks.

“You part of Mitakihara FC?”

“Yeah?”

“Bit late to start practice, isn’t it?” asked Emma, glancing at her chronometer again.

Fumiko blinked at her. “Practice doesn’t start until seven.”

Emma raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah? When would you start practice?”

“Five thirty for warmups, then practice proper at six,” said Emma. She shrugged and bounced the football off her head, then returned it to her feet. “Though hey, it’s up to your team.”

Fumiko’s eyebrows shot up. “Five thirty? That’s insane!”

Emma shrugged. “I did it starting when I was eight.”

Fumiko was clearly getting annoyed. “W-well, just because— I mean— what gives you the right to brag anyway?”

“I played for London FC from 2446 to 2450 and was Team Captain for the 2450 season,” said Emma, bouncing the ball up to her head and balancing it there. “And I’m not trying to brag, though I guess I’m being a bit of an ass. Sorry about that.”

Fumiko’s face went through a number of expressions and colors, before settling on a peeved pink. “I-I guess it’s fine. I remember reading about you, a-and I guess if there’s anyone who’s allowed to criticize, it’d be you.”

“You’ve read about me?” Emma asked. “Wait, really? I didn’t make that much news did I?”

“I mean you’re not— er, that is—”

“No no I get it, but like, what’ve you read? And where did you find that stuff?”

“Oh, I— well,” Fumiko stuttered, before coughing and trying again. “I’m a benchy for Mitakihara Central, but I’m trying to get better and I read a lot of stuff on the web about older players and you showed up a few times as someone who made solid plays for London FC back in the day before you retired unexpectedly and, well, the articles sort of didn’t really pay that much attention to you so- so- so I’m babbling oh god.”

“It’s, er, fine,” said Emma, waving away the awkward air as Fumiko buried her face in her hands. “But uh, that’s interesting. I didn’t make that many waves, that’s true, but…”

“Sorry, I’m doing this all wrong,” said Fumiko. “I’m, uh, I’m going to get started with practicing.”

“Right,” Emma said, nodding and returning to bouncing her football on her feet. “I’ll stay out of your way.”

The small girl, a child, really, in the proper sense of the term, started a set of stretches that set off all sorts of nostalgic memories for Emma. That was a routine she’d never been able to forget, even during combat training. A few of the other girls had done morning stretches as well, before they started training for the day, though eventually they’d all stopped after they’d realized that they could use a small frisson of magic to limber themselves up.

Fumiko set off at a slow jog around the pitch. Emma watched her go, letting the ball she’d been bouncing come to rest balanced on her head. It was definitely nostalgic, watching Fumiko run. The younger girl quickly began to build up speed as she warmed up, cleats digging into the grass of the pitch and kicking up little clods of dirt as she ran.

Emma sent a quick command to her TacComp and considered Fumiko’s current speed. It seemed to have topped out at around thirty kilometers per hour, which was generally quite impressive. Implants usually let children around Fumiko’s age get up to thirteen kilometers per hour without any strain, and it didn’t really take much effort to even get up to twenty. For the junior leagues, somewhere around thirty kilometers per hour was a good place to be for a sustainable pace. Adult professionals could sustain over forty easily.

The thing about playing sports in the modern era was figuring out how to push the limits of your implants and play intelligently to get the advantage over your opponents. The human body may have been augmented, but that didn’t mean it didn’t have limits. Where those limits were varied between individuals, of course, but the variation between high-level athletes was minimal. What set people apart was their ability to read the field and react to changing conditions, something that Emma liked to think she could do fairly well.

Normally, this would be the time that Emma would have gotten upset about her lost chances. If she’d just been given a few more years, boarding in the team’s dormitories, she could have made something for herself. Instead, she’d been made to leave, for reasons that didn’t make any sense to her. But her parents had been uncomfortable with leaving her in London, and they had been forcibly obliged to move to Mitakihara. When push came to shove…

Emma mused over the memory. It had been a truly colossal fight. But the wisdom of leaving a twelve-year-old in London, alone, was definitely questionable. With what Emma could gather of the politics, it seemed that her parents probably hadn’t had much choice at the time. It wasn’t much comfort, but Emma had probably been “merely” collateral damage.

She snorted. Some collateral damage.

Life after that hadn’t been that hard though. Emma had been distraught, but compared to training, school had been almost pointlessly easy. It had also been stupidly hard at times, but that was true for almost anything. It had been boring, though, and her parents had still been the distant, nearly absent people they had been when Emma contracted. Their family had been stuck in a rut, cycling endlessly between work and home, with little improvement.

At the end of the day, for Emma at least, it was probably still for the better that she’d made her wish. Being a magical girl was definitely not what Emma had thought it would be. There was more darkness than she had expected, more pain and regret, and it had taken hold of her for a while. But she had also found friends, and whatever it was that she was with Ayane and Ryouta, and something, maybe, in the Cult.

The darkness seemed distant that morning.

“Aren’t you going to do anything?” asked Fumiko. The younger girl had been slowly winding down as Emma had been lost in thought, and was now toweling off the sheen of sweat that had built from the run.

Emma blinked, then tipped the ball off her head. “Ah, well, not really. I was just wasting some time.”

Fumiko fidgeted nervously. “W-well, if you have time, do you want to, um, do a quick scrimmage?”

Emma gave Fumiko a skeptical look. “Just the two of us?”

“I guess it’s not really a scrimmage,” said Fumiko, rubbing her arm shyly, “but, I mean, you’re a, well I guess were a pretty good player, and I want to get better and play as a starter, so I need to know how good I’m doing, s-so if you’ve got some time on your hands…”

Emma huffed a small laugh. “Well, I would, but I should probably get going and run my errands,” she said. “Practice is starting soon for you anyway. Even if I could stay, I don’t think it would work. I’m a magical girl, after all. Superhuman reflexes and all that. You wouldn’t be able to learn much.”

“Oh,” said Fumiko sadly.

“Sorry,” said Emma. She patted Fumiko on the shoulder.

Fumiko shrugged, before perking up again. “T-then, if you don’t mind, do you have any advice?”

Emma paused. Advice? For football?

“Honestly, I’d have to watch you play to come up with anything specific,” Emma said thoughtfully. “This being said, I can offer you some more general advice?”

“What do you mean?”

Emma rubbed the back of her head awkwardly. “Well, I know this is going to send kind of cheesy and canned, but make sure to keep your teammates close, okay?”

Fumiko blinked. “Huh?”

“I’m serious. Practice and stuff… when you’re trying to get better, it’s easy to let it take over. You need to make sure you’re coming back to Earth every once in a while, you know?”

“I— do you think I practice too much?”

“That’s not it, it’s more like—” Emma made a frustrated noise “—how do I put this. What I mean is, your team is just as important as your own abilities. You have to be part of the team, even if you don’t think you’re that good, otherwise you’re never going to play well. Just make sure you don’t lose sight of that, okay?”

Fumiko wrinkled her brow in thought. “Okay.”

“Alright. That’s all I have. I guess practice is starting for you soon?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be going then. See you around, Fumiko.”

“See you.”

It was raining on Lei Feng. This was normal, and not cause for concern for much of the population.

Rebecca Shu had found that she missed the rain of Lei Feng, and was happy to be back home. The planet’s weather was usually icy cold, even with implant mediation, but it was infinitely better than the sticky moistness that accompanied the warm rain on Samsara.

She made a face at the memory. So much ew.

The lighthouse at the top of the cliffs at the mouth of Fengyu Bay was just over sixty meters tall, standing on a cluster of rocks that had fractured and split off from the main cliff face eons ago. The colony had driven long reinforcing rods into the stone, then buttressed it against the cliff-face with a one hundred meter long bridge, the metallic and composite main structure hidden behind a facade of stone quarried from nearby. The same construction method was used for the lighthouse itself, the interior faced with the waste stone left over from initial construction.

The top of the lighthouse had two rooms instead of the usual one. The largest was the beacon room, which held equipment to maintain and support the beacon. These included the main lamp, of course, the primary signal amplifier, a multispectral signal generator, and all the various maintenance equipment required to repair and replace any of the main components. The local star’s capricious nature often made satellite navigation impossible, and made it necessary to have other options to ensure safe passage for the colony’s ships. The lighthouse’s beacon room generated a vast variety of signals that, in conjunction with other lighthouses on the planet, provided essential backup navigation for ships at sea which, inevitably, got caught in bad weather.

The second room was almost not a room at all. It was a small alcove, isolated from the main lantern room, though without a door to properly partition the two. It was just large enough to fit in an armchair with side table, a bookshelf, and a small table for a drinks machine and mugs. One wall of the alcove was windows, made of 100-millimeter-thick, high-impact polyglas, rated to the same strength as a magical girl’s soul gem cover, and sealed tight against Lei Feng’s frequent violent storms.

Rebecca Shu sat alone in her armchair, wrapped in a thick quilt, her legs tucked up under herself, and stared out at the sea. The ocean outside Rebecca’s window seemed to gently rise and fall, belying the power of the breakers as they crashed against the rocks below. Sea foam streaked along the surface of the waves, forming short little trails that Rebecca’s enhanced vision could pick out easily, even from her height above the shore.

She took a sip of cocoa and pulled the quilt a little tighter. The trouble with the lighthouse was that it could occasionally get incredibly dull, but all in all it was still a pretty good gig. It was part of the local garrison, these days, and only required one magical girl team to do some basic maintenance on the exterior from time to time. This was, of course, easy for any magical girl, let alone a squad of them. Rebecca was the only one who was from Lei Feng. The others were on garrison rotation, all in various states of mental disrepair, like Rebecca herself. They gave each other the space they needed to deal with things as they needed, but kept an eye out for anything serious.

So far, they seemed to be doing alright. The sharp pain in Rebecca’s chest had faded, leaving a dull ache that stayed quiet most days and flared up only occasionally. When it did, like now, a few hours in the alcove with a mug of hot cocoa seemed to take care of things.

Rebecca’s interface beeped at her: “Vid-call request from Emma Sinclair.”

“Hey Emma,” said Rebecca, accepting the call with a blink.

“Hey Rebecca,” said Emma. The British football maniac was sitting in a cafe somewhere, the background brightly lit with giant windows. “How are you doing?”

“Alright,” said Rebecca. She smiled slightly and took another sip of cocoa. “We’re having good weather today at Fengyu Bay. Winds at sixty kilometers an hour and ambient temperature hovering around 260 Kelvin.”

Emma made a face. “I— seriously?”

“Yeah. Colder with wind chill, but I saw worse as a kid. This isn’t worth canceling school over or anything.”

“W-what is worth canceling school over?”

Rebecca paused to reference her memories. “I think they called it once when we started seeing winds top a hundred kilometers per hour. That was a bad day. I think my house flooded.”

“Your house flooded?”

Rebecca shrugged and giggled at Emma’s disbelief. “It happens. The furniture is self-cleaning, so it’s no big deal.”

“Why do you live there?”

“It’s better than Samsara,” said Rebecca, drinking more cocoa. “The weather was terrible on Samsara. Especially the warm rain.”

“I liked the warm rain…”

“You’re so gross, Emma.”

“Gross? If you want to call ‘having sense’ being gross, I guess…”

Rebecca laughed and drank more cocoa. The conversation lulled pleasantly as Emma accepted a cup of coffee from a drone.

“Haven’t heard from you in a while,” Rebecca said once Emma had gotten her coffee sorted. “It’s not like you to call randomly.”

“Ah, well,” said Emma, scratching her cheek awkwardly. “You know, we haven’t talked in a few weeks.”

“Huh. Well that’s true.”

“Really though, are you doing alright?” said Emma. “I’ve been dealing with things through the Cult, but I don’t know what it’s like for you.”

“I’m… managing,” said Rebecca. She sipped some more cocoa. “It’s been good getting away from people. The MHD checks in on me every few days, to make sure I’m not at risk.”

“You’re a lot quieter than you used to be.”

Rebecca snorted. “As you might expect, yes.”

The two of them fell silent.

Emma sipped her coffee pensively. There wasn’t that much to say, honestly, at least if Rebecca wasn’t feeling like talking. The fact that Rebecca didn’t really want to talk was sort of worrying, but then, the MHD supposedly knew what it was doing.

But then again, was it really that Rebecca didn’t want to talk? Emma glanced up at Rebecca over the rim of her coffee cup. The distant mind-controller was staring off past Emma’s shoulder, presumably out a window in the lighthouse. She was lost in thought, cloaked in a sort of seriousness that wasn’t supposed to be worn by the young.

“You should come to Earth,” Emma heard herself saying. Some kind of impulse had pulled the words out of her. “Just to visit, maybe. There’s a lot of interesting places you might like at the poles.”

Rebecca raised an eyebrow. “That’s random.”

“I— I guess,” said Emma, taking another sip of coffee. “But I mean, Mitakihara has a lot of fun places to visit too, and, you know, we won’t have much opportunity once we have to redeploy…”

“Like you’ve visited any of them,” Rebecca snorted. She paused to sip her cocoa, then: “Football geek.”

“I’ve visited some! O-or, I’m planning, at least…”

Rebecca chuckled, then started laughing, and was soon keeled over to the side in her chair, cocoa set onto the side table and hands clutched around her middle as she laughed and laughed and laughed.

“Ahhh… that’s a good one, Emma,” she eventually said.

Emma squirmed, face as red as her costume. “It wasn’t that funny…”

“No, but I needed it,” Rebecca sighed, wiping at her eyes. “But yeah, I’ll think about visiting. Just to get you out of the house, if nothing else.”

“I’m not that bad, Rebecca. Jeez…”

Eliana Cruz did not usually worry about young girls like Emma.

It was a bit heartless of her, she knew, but she was four hundred and thirty-seven. She’d seen too many girls get themselves killed over the stupidest things. It was like trying to give a shit about lemmings, aside from the fact that real lemmings didn’t go jumping off cliffs. The analogy was shit, sure, but it conveyed the point: far too many young girls got themselves killed for no good reason.

Despite this, Eliana found herself sweeping the area from atop her favorite bar for Emma’s particular magical presence. She hadn’t seen the girl for a few days now, which wasn’t itself worth worrying about, really, but…

Ah. There she was, right back in the same bar that Eliana had found her the second time they’d met.

Eliana leaped in one long continuous bound off the top of the building and let herself fall like a cannonball into open space, the air whipping past her before a pulse of magic pushed back, arresting her fall gently like falling into a cushion of duck down.

The bartender nodded to her as she opened the door, sliding in like a spirit on the wind. It was remarkable how prescient bartenders were, really. Eliana had never met one who didn’t have near-magical-girl levels of awareness of everyone in the bar.

Sometimes, Eliana wondered if humanity really needed magical girls.

Emma looked up as Eliana slid into her booth. Eliana raised a single hand in greeting. “Yo.”

“You’re late,” said Emma blandly.

Eliana paused. “…I am?”

Emma chuckled and took a swig of her coffee. “Nah, I’m just kidding. I wasn’t expecting you to check up on me.”

Eliana wrinkled her brow as she ordered a beer from the bar. It was truly rare for her to get caught off guard. “Well, I was in the area, so I thought I’d see if you were here.”

Emma snorted. “Ah yes. I’m familiar with that one. I guess you also happened to be in the mood for drinks?”

“Yes, exactly,” said Eliana, scowling and settling into her seat. “You’re drinking coffee?”

“Coffee’s good here,” said Emma with a shrug. “And I need to fill out paperwork, so it’s fine. I might have a glass of bourbon later.”

“Bourbon huh,” said Eliana. Her beer arrived on a coaster. “I thought you liked the Irish stuff?”

Emma shrugged. “I’m branching out. Could be fun.”

“Bourbon’s pretty rough stuff.”

“I’ve had worse.”

Eliana wasn’t sure if that was funny. She sipped her beer instead.

“What paperwork are you filling out, anyway?”

“I’ve decided to join the Soul Guard,” said Emma, picking up her coffee and taking a sip. “I’m a bit worried about the part where I might need to fight other magical girls, but I think that, ultimately, I want to help people.”

Eliana rubbed her chin. That was…

“Well, having been part of the Soul Guard, I feel like I should tell you some things,” she said with a sip of her beer. “The most important is that you shouldn’t get confused about your role in combat. The Soul Guard is important, sure, but in the end we’re all important no matter what we do. I know the MHD likes to parade the idea around like a bit of propaganda, but it’s pretty accurate.”

“I know,” said Emma, nodding. “I just…” She tapped the table, thinking. “I guess, as a magical girl, I want to help people more directly, and focusing on hunting demons and preventing other magical girls from mistreating humanity feels more…”

“More like you’re doing something, right?” asked Eliana with a nostalgic sigh. She looked down at her beer contemplatively, eyes suddenly focused far into the past. “Like… like you’re actually affecting things, yourself, rather than just another cog in the machine.”

Emma nodded. “Yeah.”

“I was the same when I was your age,” said Eliana with another sigh. She took a long drag of her beer. “That was… a time.”

Emma raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Eliana snorted. “What do you mean ‘what do I mean’? I joined the Soul Guard when it was still young. When the world was still dirty and violent and us magical girls needed to watch each other. You couldn’t trust that another magical girl would help you, not unless she was a battle sister who’d hunted with you and stood by you when times were bad. You—”

Eliana cut herself off and drank more beer. Damn. Those were bad memories.

“You had to fight to live,” said Emma, finishing Eliana’s story quietly. “But it’s like that now, too, you know? When my leave is up, I’ll be going out again, to the battlefield. If I don’t fight, I’ll die. It’s not the same kind of fighting, but it’s still a place where you need to keep your head up and your senses sharp.”

“That’s true,” Eliana said quietly. “I guess I’m just being a jaded old maid. You girls these days…”

“Well, that’s what everyone says,” said Emma with a small shrug and a smile. “But then, that’s why we fight, right? So that the next generation can be a little better off?”

“Hah! Perhaps,” said Eliana. “Where’d you get that one, Emma?”

Emma shrugged again. “Honestly, I heard it from a vid. It’s not actually that inspirational.”

“I guess not,” said Eliana with a wry grin. She blinked quickly, then sighed. It really was important to talk to the younger generation occasionally. When you got old, it was easy to forget things. Easy things. Things that were important.

“I’m sorry,” said Eliana. “I’m being dumb, and raining on your day when this is a big moment for you.”

“It’s fine,” said Emma. “I can… understand what it must be like.”

And wasn’t that an understatement?

“Well, alright,” said Eliana. “Thanks. Despite what I said, I don’t regret being part of the Soul Guard, so good luck. I hope they accept you. To the future?”

Eliana raised her glass. Emma snorted and raised her coffee mug to clink it against Eliana’s beer.

“To the future.”


	15. New Horizons

It was near sunset.

A long day had passed. Emma had been forced to ask if Dr. Hang would be willing to abbreviate their brownie-making in order to make sure she showed up on time to Ayane’s hotel room. The researcher had gotten straight to the point and asked Emma to sign up as a research subject for her work.

“I’m interested in the way magical girls think about problems,” Dr. Hang had said with a serious expression. “The trouble is that older girls all have established ways of thinking that are totally unique to themselves. Younger girls tend to grasp more for general rules of thumb, or at least that’s what I hypothesize. I would be extremely interested in having a chance to watch you work some problems to see what the difference is, if anything.”

Emma had tentatively agreed. She wanted to doublecheck with Anna, but everything that Dr. Hang proposed was eminently reasonable. The interaction with Emma’s redeployment date made things a bit strange, but Dr. Hang was more worried about getting good data as opposed to getting a lot of it.

“Apparently she thinks that I’ll just settle into a pattern if she keeps me for too long, anyway, so it doesn’t really matter,” said Emma as she waited outside Ayane’s bathroom for the other girl to finish getting dressed.

“That makes sense,” said Ayane from inside. “You get the same issue with testing animal intelligence. Did you do anything else before coming here?”

“The last thing I did was visit the Knights of the Goddess again to apply for initiation,” said Emma. “In theory, the Soul Guard doesn’t play any favorites, but it sounds like in practice they really like seeing that you’re part of the Knights on your application.”

“You know, that sounds a lot more questionable than I’d have thought,” Ayane said. “But I guess that’s not really fair.”

“Well it’s just a resume thing,” said Emma. She ran a finger thoughtfully over her soul gem ring. “It’s not like I magically am going to get in just because I applied for initiation.”

“Yeah. What’re you going to do in the Soul Guard if you get in?”

“I dunno. That’s part of initial training, though I’ll probably do some reading too.”

“That’s fair.” Ayane poked her head out the door. “How do I look?”

“What, you mean your makeup?” asked Emma, raising an eyebrow. “It looks fine?”

Ayane pouted. “Jeez, Emma, you could be a bit better at this sort of thing.”

“Hey, all I know is how to put on lip gloss and eyeliner,” said Emma, raising her hands in a sort of helpless gesture. “What do you want out of me?”

“What I want is to spend the night with you,” said Ayane, ducking back into the bathroom. “But, alas, I must meet your boyfriend.”

Emma followed Ayane in to watch as her girlfriend fixed her hair. She had put on a very fetching maroon dress, the neckline pulled up tight to her throat in a halter top and leaving her back exposed. The skirt swished distractingly around Ayane’s legs, holding Emma’s attention just long enough to bring the conversation to an awkward pause that had Ayane giving Emma a very particular look.

“A-anyway,” Emma coughed, looking away with a blush. “I mean, we’ve talked about this before.”

“I know,” said Ayane. Emma didn’t fail to notice the pleased little smirk she had, nor the way that Ayane suddenly seemed to be making her skirt swish a little more than was entirely necessary.

“Emma?”

“Huh?” Emma said.

Ayane rolled her eyes. “I said that I’m honestly surprised by how interested I am in this plan of yours. I’ve never thought of boys romantically.”

“Well, you don’t need to be involved romantically, really,” said Emma, looking down at her hands to avoid getting distracted again. “As long as, like, you’re not actively trying to kill each other…”

“As if Ryouta could do anything to me.”

“Technically he could call in some Shizuki assassins or something,” said Emma, fiddling with her soul gem ring. “I dunno if that’s real, but I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Ayane made a little humming noise as she slipped on her heels. “Honestly, he doesn’t seem like the type. Maybe Sayaka-san would in his name though.”

“You know the Shizukis do treat their men weird,” Emma said thoughtfully. “There’s so many rules…”

“If I had to guess, that’s the reason he wants to date you and not someone more ‘proper’,” said Ayane. “You’re pretty much just interested in getting the job done.”

“That’s true for both of us.”

“Yes it is,” said Ayane. “How do I look?”

“Distractingly beautiful,” said Emma in complete honesty. “Or at least, your legs are.”

Ayane giggled and stepped over, slinging her arms casually around Emma’s neck and pressing her body up against Emma’s. “Distracting huh. If I could I’d distract you some more…”

“I’d totally be down for that,” Emma murmured, pulling Ayane closer and rubbing their noses together. “We do have a few minutes before Ryouta’s supposed to—”

Ayane’s doorbell rang.

“And, ever the gentleman, he’s early,” said Ayane with a laugh. She kissed Emma very briefly and stepped away, smoothing out first her dress, then Emma’s, as the hotel room’s door clicked open in the background. “Come in, Ryouta!”

The sound of footsteps on carpet heralded Ryouta’s arrival at the bathroom, just enough time for Emma’s TacComp to flush her system of any evidence of Ayane’s flirtations and focus her attention on the situation at hand.

“Ayane,” Ryouta said as he came to a halt at the door, dressed smartly in a tuxedo and shiny leather shoes. He clicked his heels neatly and bowed.

“Ryouta,” said Ayane, extending a hand and looking slightly perplexed. Ryouta took her hand in his and kissed Ayane’s knuckles very gently. Ayane flushed lightly as Ryouta straightened. “I— uh. This is very unexpected.”

“My brother says that I’m a sappy romantic,” said Ryouta, pulling Ayane towards him very gently to lead her towards the door. “But the truth is that I’m only good at terribly cheesy romantic gestures. I even borrowed my family’s personal aircar for the occasion.”

Ayane blinked. Aircars were rare in Mitakihara. “I— I see. And do you do this to all the girls you meet?”

“No, only the ones I’m interested in a long term relationship with,” said Ryouta with a bright smile. “Actually, I haven’t done it to Emma yet. It’s a terrible failure on my part.”

Ayane flushed further. “I uh— I mean— Emma’s mentioned surely—”

“Oh, of course, but I didn’t mean in that sense,” said Ryouta as he paused to hold the door open for Ayane. “But you know, it’s allowed to be in a long term relationship that’s only emotional. And since Emma is interested in you, it’d be foolish of me not to see what all the fuss is.”

Ayane covered her face in embarrassed despair. “That— you— I’ve never heard someone say that like they mean it. Do you get all your lines from cheesy old romance movies?”

“Yes,” said Ryouta blithely, “but don’t tell anyone. I’d lose so much credit with my cousins.”

Ayane peeked at him between her fingers. Ryouta gave her a wink.

“Goddess, you two,” sighed Emma fondly as she swept both of them up in her arms and ushered everyone out the door. “You’re terribly cute.”

Ayane slapped her arm weakly.

Ryouta really did get most of his lines from cheesy old romance movies. He hadn’t really been sure it would work, but, judging by the amount of teasing he had received as a kid, it was probably something that he could sound natural attempting. In Ayane’s case, it had worked brilliantly, and by the time they’d entered the aircar, he and Ayane were having a perfectly normal conversation. By the time they reached their destination, Emma was feeling quite left out.

Still, that was sort of the goal, wasn’t it?

“So, as a photographer, I’m naturally drawn to museums and things,” said Ryouta as he helped Ayane out of the aircar. “But I didn’t want to take you somewhere boring. Have you visited the Mitakihara Botanical Gardens?”

“No, though I was thinking about going there eventually with Emma,” said Ayane as she stepped onto the curb. The Mitakihara Botanical Gardens indeed stood before them, with the adjacent Mitakihara Zoo, Aquarium, and Natural History Museum. “Is there something happening this evening?”

“The Botanical Gardens have a very interesting special event tonight,” said Ryouta. “Typically it’s a bit of an affair, seeing as it’s widely regarded as quite romantic.”

“How did you learn about it?” asked Emma as Ryouta helped her out of the aircar.

“My family has a lot of tips for wooing girls,” said Ryouta. He chuckled to himself over a past memory. “A lot of tips. Who knew I’d be using it so soon?”

“Romantic walks in gardens are one of those then?” asked Ayane. “I suppose it’s not so bad. You’d think a family like the Shizuki would have more extravagant advice though.”

“A lot of people think so,” said Ryouta. “But really, it all comes down to paying attention to the girl you’re interested in. At least, that’s what I was always taught.”

Conversation paused as an attendant appeared and asked if they wanted anything to drink. This set off a small whirlwind of events that left Emma and Ayane thoroughly bewildered, but which Ryouta handled with an aplomb born out of long experience. They ended up ensconced in a nook of the gardens with glasses of champagne, blinking under the bowers of a wisteria tree.

“Wisteria is typically grown using a strong frame capable of supporting the plant’s twining stems,” Emma read off of her implants. “In the 20th and 21st centuries, wisteria became popular among amateur gardeners and frequently pulled down inadequately strong structures once it reached large size. The wisteria in the Mitakihara Botanical Gardens is a Japanese Wisteria, native to Japan and considered the most spectacular of the wisteria family. This wisteria was planted just after the Unification Wars and has since become a dominating member of the plant community in MBG.”

“That’s a pretty old tree,” said Ayane. “It smells like grapes.”

“Wisteria is weird that way,” remarked Ryouta, taking his seat and looking up at the blossoms overhead. “The hanging tendrils you see are called racemes. They’re often found on mustard and radish family plants.”

“Does that mean I can put wisteria on my steak?” asked Emma jokingly.

“Technically the seeds are poisonous, but our implants would take care of it,” said Ryouta. “That being said, wisteria is a type of flowering pea, not a mustard or radish.”

“Aww.”

“What are we here for, though?” Ayane asked. “I mean, it’s very pretty and romantic, but you said there was a special event?”

“Ah, yes, well, it turns out that the Mitakihara Zoo collaborates quite heavily with the Botanical Gardens,” said Ryouta, sipping his champagne. “A particular favorite is when the Zoo sends its newly-emerged butterflies over to do a bit of pollinating.”

Ayane’s eyes went wide. “You’re joking.”

“If I recall correctly, they’re bringing some of the tropical butterflies out—”

He didn’t finish his sentence as a butterfly fluttered past to land on a raceme of the overhanging wisteria. Then another appeared, and another, and then suddenly the entire garden seemed to be filled with the brightly colored wings of butterflies, flitting from some unseen entrance towards the flowers that blossomed throughout the garden.

Ryouta cleared his throat quietly.

“Would you like to take a walk?”

“So I told him I wasn’t into boys since, you know, I was a boy too, and he gave me this look like I’d hit him in the crotch,” Ryouta said, gesturing expressively as the trio walked slowly down a quiet lane in the Gardens, “and after a second he goes: ‘What do you mean, you’re a boy?’”

Ayane laughed and took a sip of her champagne. “Seriously? He didn’t even check his nomenclator?”

“I don’t know, he must not have,” said Ryouta with a shrug. “I mean, you’d think it was obvious, but my voice hadn’t changed at the time, so…”

Ayane gave Ryouta a considering look. “You are pretty cute. I could see it.”

Ryouta flushed. “T-thanks?”

“Maybe if we got you into a skirt,” said Ayane thoughtfully, tapping her champagne glass against her lips. “Yeah, that could work…”

From a few strides back, Emma struggled not to laugh as Ryouta attempted, with no great success, to dissuade Ayane from the idea.

It was good that they were getting along. In terms of first impressions, at least, neither had put the other off, and Ryouta was apparently a lord and master of over the top romantic gestures. Maybe if either Emma or Ayane had been older that wouldn’t have worked as well, but, well, there was a reason why teenage girls were still their own particular demographic.

Emma allowed herself a quiet chuckle as she sipped at her champagne and looked around at the Gardens. After the initial burst of brightly colored insects, the event had quieted down to “merely” an even dusting of butterflies across the flowers, just enough to be amazing yet not enough to risk any of the butterflies getting squashed accidentally underfoot due to overcrowding. Some plants had it better than others, of course. Emma spotted a poor climbing vine straining to cling to its trellis as butterfly after butterfly alighted on the petals of its blossoms. A small drone flitted in as Emma watched to tie a string around the vine, securing it more tightly to the trellis while hardly disturbing the insects.

She paused to watch as the drone made its way to another weak point. That was sort of impressive.

“What do you think, Emma?” asked Ayane.

“Sorry?” Emma asked, blinking away from the butterflies to look at Ayane and Ryouta. Her TacComp filled in the blank a second later. “Oh. Uh.”

“See, I told you she’d like the idea,” said Ayane as she twirled Ryouta around as if to show off a skirt he wasn’t wearing. “I’ve got just the thing in my hotel room. It looks cute, right?”

Emma blinked at the image that Ayane sent over, then blinked again as she imagined Ryouta wearing it.

“That’s— Goddess.”

“Come onnnn,” Ayane cooed into Ryouta’s ear. “It’ll be fun! And who knows, if you look enough like a girl, I might even give you a kiss.”

Ryouta flushed bright red.

“This is scandalously short.”

“Only a little,” Ayane called out to Ryouta. “I bought it for a date with Emma some time, so it’s to be expected.”

“How do you even walk in this?” Ryouta called back from inside the bathroom of Ayane’s hotel room. “It feels like it’s going to fly away!”

“You get used to it,” Emma replied. “More champagne, Ayane?”

“Yes please,” said Ayane, holding out her glass. The two of them were lounging on Ayane’s bed after changing out of their formal wear into more casual clothes. A small cart of snacks stood next to them with a bucket of ice for chilling their champagne.

“Make sure to put on the stockings too,” said Emma as she poured Ayane another glass of champagne and put the bottle back with a rattle of ice. “And the panties. Those are very important.”

Ryouta stuck his head out the door and glared at them. “No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Awww, alright. Stockings though, right?”

Ryouta flushed. “I— fine. Stockings. But no more!”

“Yay!”

The door to the bathroom shut with a click.

“We’re having way too much fun with this,” Emma giggled as she scooped a piece of runny brie onto a slice of bread. “We really owe Ryouta— whoop—” Emma juggled her piece of bread to try and catch the cheese before it ran off the edge, nearly failed, and managed to save it just in time for Ayane to inhale both the bread and Emma’s fingers. “Hey, that was mine!”

“Anowimin,” Ayane mumbled around Emma’s fingers.

“I can’t understand you, Ayane.”

Ayane pulled Emma’s hand out of her mouth, swallowed the morsel of cheese, then said: “I said: and now it’s mine!”

“Well, I mean, clearly,” said Emma. She made another bite and popped it into her mouth before Ayane could steal that one too. It was really surprising how well it went with the champagne.

“Anyway, I wouldn’t say we necessarily owe Ryouta anything,” said Ayane as she lay back and looked up at the ceiling. “I’m pretty sure he’s having fun.”

“Oh sure,” said Emma around the piece of cheese. She swallowed, then continued: “I’m just saying. Especially if he’s as cute as we think he’s going to be.”

“It’s weird, I’ve never actually tried this with anyone before,” said Ayane. She tapped her champagne glass against her lips thoughtfully. “You’d have thought that I’d try putting cute boys in girls’ clothes sometime just to see what would happen, but…”

“I mean, that would have required you to date extensively before you turned twelve,” said Emma dryly. “This is a bit of an ask, don’t you think?”

Ayane laughed. “That’s true. One girl back when I was eleven doesn’t really count, does it?”

“You didn’t try kissing any boys after that?”

Ayane shrugged. “Never had any interest. Like, it just wasn’t a thing. Girls were always more…” She paused, then waved her hand. “You know. More.”

Emma blinked at her. “That’s completely unhelpful.”

Ayane rolled her eyes. “Well today we’ll find out more about my lesbianness and see how far it goes then. Who knows? Maybe I was secretly bi!”

“Maybe,” said Emma, chuckling and leaning in to peck Ayane briefly on the cheek. “We have time to find out.”

“Oh we absolutely—”

Ayane was cut off by a knock on the bathroom door.

“Um, I’m finished changing,” said Ryouta.

“Ooooo, good!” said Ayane, sitting up attentively. “Come on out then, let’s see!”

Ryouta peeked shyly out from behind the door.

“OhmyGoddess you did your hair!” Ayane squealed, clasping her hands to her mouth. Ryouta retreated. “No wait come back! It’s cute!”

“I’m not sure I want to be cute,” Ryouta muttered from behind the door.

Ayane frowned, then hopped to her feet and stepped over to the door. “Ryouta? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” said Ryouta. “I’m just— I guess I’m just nervous.”

“You don’t have to come out if you don’t want,” Ayane said. She slid her hand through the gap of the door and searched until she found Ryouta’s. “I know I’m… enthusiastic about it, but if you’re not comfortable…”

“It’s not that,” said Ryouta. He grasped Ayane’s hand and twined his fingers between hers, slowly working his way forward until he was gripping her hand tightly. “I’m… it’s— I’m glad you like it. It just— it’s a little scary.”

“Mmm.”

“I guess I’m a little freaked out by how well it works? I’ve never tried on girls’ clothes before and, like, I just did my hair a little and it works really well.”

“Mm. It’s still you though.”

“Yeah.”

“Like, I mean, I like girls, right, but I like you too, Ryouta,” said Ayane. She ran a thumb over Ryouta’s knuckles comfortingly. “I’m not just trying to push my kinks on you, y’know? I mean, I am, because I’m pretty sure you’re going to be hot, but—”

“No, I get what you mean,” said Ryouta, laughing a little. “I— thanks. I feel a little silly now, but… but thanks. I needed the talk.”

“No problem. Do you want to come out?”

“Yeah.”

Ryouta pushed open door as Ayane stepped backwards, keeping a hold on Ryouta’s hand as she backed away.

“S-so, how do I look?” Ryouta asked.

It was true, what Ayane had guessed: Ryouta was extremely cute. The implants in his hair had let it grow out a little in the short time that he’d been in the bathroom, giving Ryouta the ability to let his hair come down to his chin and be pinned just to the side with a barrette. The shirt that Ayane had given him didn’t quite fit and was a little long, but the skirt was exactly the right length to leave a thin gap of bare skin between the bottom of the skirt and the top of the stockings. Each stocking was an opaque white, barely decorated, and held up with a garter-belt whose straps led enticingly up beneath the skirt. If only he had some cute shoes…

“I take it from Emma’s silence that she’s pleased,” said Ayane. She pulled Ryouta towards her to kiss him on the cheek. “Cute Ryouta is cute.”

“S-stop…”

“Are you sure?” asked Ayane as she wrapped Ryouta in a hug. “I could tell you more about how cute you look. Emma thinks so too.”

“D-do you, Emma?”

Emma nodded dumbly, then cleared her throat. “I mean, it works really well.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Come here?”

Ryouta stepped tentatively over to Emma, tugging the skirt down in front of him in nervousness.

“You really are very cute,” Emma said quietly as Ryouta stood in front of her. She took his hands and tugged gently. “Don’t be nervous. I really like it.”

“Thanks,” said Ryouta, fidgeting a little. “Can I sit down?”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” said Emma, scooting backwards on the bed so that Ryouta could sit on the edge.

There was a pause while Ryouta situated himself, trying his best to grasp modesty in a skirt, before Emma came up behind him and cuddled him to her chest.

“Sorry, Ryouta,” Emma murmured into his ear. “We’re putting you through a lot aren’t we?”

Ryouta closed his eyes and leaned back against Emma. “It’s okay if it’s you two.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” Ryouta grinned. “I mean, as a guy, I’m obliged to delight in two girls throwing themselves at me, right?”

The triad dissolved into giggles as they contemplated the fact that, yes, indeed, Emma and Ayane had been spending the last half an hour doing exactly that. After a few minutes, Ayane knelt in front of Ryouta and put her head on his knees.

“Are we making you more comfortable, Ryouta?” asked Ayane, looking up at Ryouta with bright doe eyes. “What can we do to help?”

Ryouta sucked in a choked breath. “I— uh— that’s— this is fine.”

“You sure? Nothing else we could do?”

“I’m not gonna lie,” said Ryouta breathlessly. “This is pretty much everything any guy could ever hope for.”

Emma looped her arms around Ryouta, running her hands up and down his chest. “Really now.”

Ryouta made a choked noise.

It was later.

Ryouta had managed to get some of his own clothes delivered and was sitting on the edge of the bed while Ayane sat at his feet, humming quietly. Emma was taking the last rotation of Ayane’s shower, which despite everything remained too small to fit three people all at once.

“How are you feeling?” Ryouta asked as he ran a brush through Ayane’s damp hair.

“Hmm?” Ayane asked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Ryouta began, before pausing thoughtfully. “I guess I’m just a little worried. Obviously I had a good time, but…”

“Are you still worried that you neglected me?” Ayane asked, looking up at Ryouta with a bemused expression.

“Well…” Ryouta said, running the brush through a portion of Ayane’s hair. “I mean, you are supposed to be lesbian.”

Ayane snorted. “Some lesbian I am.”

“Well I mean, I dunno, I just want you to be happy. Be honest with me, please?”

Ayane sighed and looked down at her hands, fidgeting. “If… if I’m honest, I probably would have still preferred it if you really were a girl,” she said. “That, uh, that one moment was a bit of a shock. And I really like boobs.”

“Oh…”

Ayane grimaced and twisted around to take Ryouta’s hand. “Hey, don’t feel bad okay? It’s my fault, not yours.”

“I get that,” said Ryouta, giving her a crooked smile, “but it’s still disappointing.”

“I really do think you’re super cute,” said Ayane. “Like, I dunno, it’s really confusing. It’s sort of a combination of the way you act and sound when I tease you?”

“…are you saying I act and sound like a girl?”

“No! Well…”

“Oh Goddess you are,” Ryouta groaned, flopping backwards onto the bed. “aaaaa”

“I’m sorry!” Ayane said with a guilty smile. “I don’t– I don’t really mean it like that!”

Ryouta sighed and sat up again. “It’s fine. I guess it can’t be helped. I just… I guess that still means that it doesn’t really work, for you and me.”

Ayane set her chin on Ryouta’s knees. “I dunno. It seems really early to say that.”

“I guess.”

“Emma makes it a lot easier though,” Ayane mused, tracing the pattern in the fabric on Ryouta’s leg. “Like, right now, just you and me, it feels different.”

Ryouta made a noise and returned to brushing Ayane’s hair. “Different how?”

“I dunno,” said Ayane, shrugging. “I don’t have that much experience with relationships. I guess warm, but not tingly? I want to be with you but I don’t want to be with you. Does that make sense?”

“Mm, I guess so,” said Ryouta. “Like you can trust me and drop your guard?”

“Yeah.”

Ryouta smiled and ran the brush through Ayane’s hair again. “Ah. I’m glad, then.”

They both paused. In the background, the shower shut off.

“Emma is super hot,” Ayane said randomly. “You know what I mean?”

Ryouta snorted. “No, I’ve no idea.”

“Like, really though.”

“I mean, obviously I agree with you.”

“She has the best boobs.”

“Goddess, Ayane, are you just listing off things that attract you to Emma now?” Ryouta asked, bopping her gently on the head with the hairbrush. “I mean, really.”

“Bleh. What do you want to talk about instead?”

Ryouta made a neutral noise and contemplated Ayane’s hair. He wondered if he could braid it…

“Oh, by the way, you do look really cute in girls clothes, just to be clear,” said Ayane, causing Ryouta to splutter. “I mean genuinely though. Like if you want to keep doing that, I am totally down.”

“I am totally not,” said Ryouta, bopping Ayane gently again. “…Maybe for special occasions.”

“I’m holding you to that,” Ayane said, grinning, then faltering. “Er, I mean, I don’t want to imply that you’re only cute when you look like a girl.”

Ryouta sighed huffily. “I mean, you totally do mean that though. It bothers me, a little, but I guess it’s fine.”

Ayane frowned up at him. “Are you sure?”

“…no, but well, I guess if Emma likes it too, it’ll be fine,” Ryouta said after a moment. “Ish.”

“What do you mean?”

“I wouldn’t do it just for you,” said Ryouta. He immediately winced. “Er.”

Ayane blinked and didn’t really like how that made her heart squeeze.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” said Ryouta quickly. “I– I’m sorry.”

“Go on,” said Ayane, laying her head on Ryouta’s knees again.

“I– I just mean that… that I’m not a girl, and I don’t want to be,” said Ryouta softly. “That’s all. I wouldn’t want to play make-believe for someone else.”

Ayane pursed her lips. “I get that, yeah.”

“But Emma likes it because it’s fun, you know? So…”

“Yeah, I get it,” said Ayane with a deep sigh. “…Sorry to suck so much.”

“You’re fine,” Ryouta said, patting Ayane on the head. “I didn’t mean to be that harsh.”

A thud from the bathroom made both of them look up.

“I’m okay,” Emma called out.

“What did you do?” Ayane asked.

“Uhhhh… I slipped?”

“You’re a magical girl, how do you slip?”

“Magic?”

Ayane and Ryouta looked at each other, then to the door. “What does that mean?”

The door clicked open sheepishly, Emma sticking her head through the gap, head suspiciously soaked. “I uh, I was trying to do a trick with my magic and squirted water into my face so that I hit my head against the wall when I flinched.”

Ayane and Ryouta blinked and stared at her.

“A-also, the bathroom is slightly flooded.”

There was a beat where Ayane and Ryouta both took in the absurdity of the situation, then began to laugh, much to Emma’s consternation. In that moment, as they got up to help Emma dry out the bathroom, it seemed as if things were going to be okay. They weren’t going to be perfect, but of course, nothing ever would be.


	16. Morning

Morning broke over Mitakihara like a curtain lifting from a stage. Emma watched from the hotel’s rooftop garden as a golden beacon slowly lit up the eastern sky. Rolling banks of fog wound their way between the buildings, lapping gently against the metal and glass escarpments that humanity had built upon the foundations of time, while the city’s people paused in the moment of stillness that lay before the dawn. Those working put down their instruments, those at play put down their drinks, and even those for whom the passing of stars was hardly worth a memory now turned their eyes to the horizon as the Sun rose over Mitakihara.

“Can’t sleep?” Ayane whispered in Emma’s mind.

“No,” Emma answered, brushing back a lock of hair in the morning breeze. “I thought I’d take a walk.”

“You could have woken me.”

“Did it bother you? Sorry.”

“It’s fine, I guess. I just didn’t know where you were. The roof is a long ways away.”

“Sorry. I’ll wake you next time. I just thought…”

“I know. Ryouta’s really cute when he sleeps. He sounds like he’s purring when he snores.”

Emma smiled and tucked her hair back again. “He does.”

“Are you coming back to bed?”

“No, I don’t think so. Not yet at least. I might go for a run.”

Ayane made an exasperated sound. “Of course you are. Let us know when you get back?”

“Of course.”

“See you later then.”

Emma looked around her, at the city and everything that stretched above and below. The fog was already fading, uncovering the lowest towers and the structures that stood atop and between them, the minarets and lanterns of the evening before standing, dark now, between fingers of mist. Above, the morning light shone brilliantly off the polished glass of the tall spires that reached up towards the sky. She looked down over the side of the hotel to the far away ground, which lay obscured behind mist and shadow and the swirling images of nights long passed. Any sensible person would be afraid of the deadly fall, but instead a giddy feeling swelled up in Emma’s chest as she watched the fog part, revealing the pipework below.

She jumped.

The wind wrapped around her as she transformed with a flash of blue, carrying her upwards and flinging her towards the transport tube network where she landed with a whisper of magic and a shout of joy. She could go faster than any transport pod, here, though she couldn’t fly herself. She didn’t need to. Her magic would steady her feet and send her through the sky.

Support pillars whipped past her as Emma blew through the city, jumping between buildings and leaping off of drones as she bounded across channels and through gaps. She flew across squares and dived through fountains in sprays of mist, her soul shining bright and guiding her true through the twists and turns of the city around her, until at last she came to a stop on a tower on a hill overlooking the sea.

It was beautiful. It was something that she had never seen before, shut-in that she was, or if she had she could not remember it now, in this moment, with the wind in her hair and the light of the new dawn.

She had missed this. It wasn’t something she’d appreciated, this calm. This… lack of noise. Just a moment in time without something pulling at her. Time to let herself be, and not worry about where she was next needed or what she needed next to do. It wasn’t a lack of stress, per se, though her MHD psychiatrist would certainly call it that. After all, she had to go on patrol later, and had classes she was taking, and the Soul Guard was presumably getting back to her today or tomorrow about her application. And on top of all that, she needed to go see her parents later and visit the office. Calling all of that “less stressful” was a bit missing the point.

It was just that combat, at least the combat Emma had been in, was an endless, high-intensity grind. There was never time to just… watch the sunrise. Part of her worried and fretted, wanting to do something and not stand still, but now that she’d had a taste of peace, she found herself wanting more.

She hoped the Soul Guard accepted her. The duties that came with the Soul Guard weren’t low-intensity, Goddess knew that, but they gave her time to step away from combat and reorient herself. Something, it turned out, she desperately needed. Maybe, also, she could balance her time with her parents’ expectations. Somehow. It’d be hard. But she could, with a little help, get through it.

Ryouta eventually woke up, something which turned out to be both surprisingly cute and hilarious. Ayane indulged herself in carrying Ryouta to her room’s sitting area while ordering breakfast, then sent Emma a text telling her to be back before breakfast arrived.

Emma’s trip back was substantially less vigorous than her trip out. She did, however, elect to run up the side of the hotel rather than take the elevator.

“Emma, you dweeb,” Ayane half-scolded as she opened the window to her hotel room. “You couldn’t have taken the elevator like a normal person?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Emma asked, scooting through to land on the couch. “It’s a good warm-up for my patrol later, after all.”

Ayane rolled her eyes.

Breakfast was simple but effective. A cart with a wide selection of condiments and a large pot of savory rice porridge arrived. Opening the lid released a cloud of fragrant steam.

“You make the porridge with chicken broth,” Ryouta said as they dug in around the coffee table. “You have to do special settings on the synthesizer. We just cooked it with real meat on Samsara, it’s actually less effort if you have a supplier that does home delivery.”

“Do you do a lot of farming on Samsara?” Emma asked. “Motya’s family grew grapes for wine, if I remember right.”

“Yeah that’s typical,” said Ryouta. “I’m not sure how much farming there is, exactly, but it’s not rare like it is here on Earth. Lots of hunting too.”

“Hunting?” Ayane asked. “Really? I’d have thought that Samsara’s ecosystem would still be naturally regulating.”

“Only, like, far away from human habitation,” said Ryouta, stirring this porridge thoughtfully. “Someone had the bright idea to save a bit of time and energy by not tagging all domestic poultry back when the colony was founded and resources were tight. It turns out that Samsara is a very nice place for domestic turkeys to run wild…”

“Turkeys…”

“It was a bad decision,” said Ryouta with a sigh. “People started noticing pretty fast, but exterminating an invasive species is impossible, as I’m sure you know, Ayane.”

“The reason is because it’s incredibly hard just to find them,” explained Ayane as Emma turned a questioning eye towards her. “Turkeys, at least, are easily seen, but even then it’s never going to be easy trying to track them down. With turkeys, as you kill them, the remainder learn new behaviors to counter your actions. You’d only be able to fully counter them by having a strategic AI analyze their behavior, but even if you could find one these days, you still need good data, which we can’t actually get.”

“Because the turkeys aren’t actually chipped,” said Emma, rolling her eyes at the situation. “That’s amazingly annoying.”

“So it’s always open season,” said Ryouta, shrugging. “Honestly, it works pretty well. Wild turkey is pretty good.”

“That could be an interesting date, going hunting,” Ayane mused, tapping a spoon against the side of her bowl thoughtfully. “Could we do that sometime?”

“…I mean, it’d be easier to do in VR,” said Ryouta after a moment. “Like, you’d have to get special permission to travel to Samsara and register for licenses and all that.”

“VR is fine,” said Ayane with a shrug. “Can we do that today?”

Ryouta blinked at her. “Uh, s-sure? You have the passes for it, right?”

“You coming too Emma?” asked Ayane.

“Nah, sorry, you two go ahead,” said Emma, reaching over for more porridge. “I’ve got some stuff I have to take care of.”

The offices of Hashimoto and Sinclair Investments and Securities were in a tall high-rise nicknamed “The Spire” on account of its very thin profile. The black needle stretched upwards, pointing towards the sky in a manner that would be more appropriate for a spy agency from a thriller-vid than a mundane office space. It wasn’t even that exclusive—anybody could rent a block of desks for a reasonable number of allocs. Emma suspected that one of Governance’s many architects had gotten cheeky one day and put together a design that spoke more to the oddness of their sense of humor than to their practical engineering skill.

“Didn’t bring your girlfriend with you?” Anna asked as she buzzed them in. “Or your boyfriend? Mum and Dad would have been interested in meeting them.”

“Doesn’t seem like a good time,” said Emma, shrugging and stuffing her hands in the pocket of her hoodie.

“You don’t think so?”

Emma gave her sister a raised eyebrow as they reached the lifts. “Do you?”

Anna shrugged. “Could be worse. I don’t think we’re going to do anything crazy today. It’s just going over some finances.”

“You’d think so,” said Emma, frowning. “And yet…”

The elevator dinged as it arrived to escort them upwards. They rode in silence, Anna distracted by something on her implants while Emma counted the number of spots in the tile of the elevator’s floor.

The elevator dinged again.

“Oh, Anna, I was just about to send you a message,” said a passing analyst. “It’s looking like Syklon’s going to be able to pull through after all. Do you have a moment today to go over the analysis?”

“Sure, let me get my sister situated,” said Anna. “Did changing suppliers work for them?”

“Uh, yes, or at least it did something positive,” said the analyst, blinking at Emma before focusing back on Anna. “I’ll forward you the data tables and we can go over them later.”

“Sounds good, thanks Holly.”

The analyst nodded, glancing at Emma one last time before heading off.

“…sounds like a busy day,” Emma said after a moment.

“Yeah, Syklon’s got some weird stuff in their supply chain that shouldn’t really be there,” said Anna, rolling her eyes as she gestured for Emma to follow her. “They’re a turboelectric propulsion startup that’s supposed to be specializing in small-scale stuff for, say, motorcycles. Why in the world they’re buying from a bulk raw materials producer who normally sells direct to Governance for battlecruiser construction I have no idea. Their business strategy doesn’t involve transitioning to military contracting any time soon.”

“Maybe they’re trying to make contacts?”

“Go to a trade conference?” Anna asked rhetorically. “If you didn’t waste all your money on this sort of contract, maybe you’d be able to afford it?”

“True.”

“Anyway, Mum and Dad are waiting for us in Conference Room B,” said Anna. “Are you… ready? Or do you want some time?”

Anna shifted awkwardly.

“Now who’s being pessimistic?” Emma asked, stepping past her sister with a droll expression. “May as well get this over with.”

Conference Room B was frigidly cold, even by magical girl standards. Emma’s father was glaring at the thermostat when they walked in while her mother leaned against the wall next to him, drinking a rapidly cooling cup of tea while reading something on her implants.

“There’s a drone in the system working on it,” said Catherine Sinclair as Anna flinched backwards at the temperature. She took a sip of tea and flicked her document shut. “We’re about to move somewhere else. How are you two doing?”

“Fine,” said Emma, glancing over at the thermostat with her implants. “What did Dad do?”

“I just changed the temperature,” James Sinclair said with a frown. He threw his hands up in frustration. “It’s just a setting! This thermostat is stupid!”

“We know dear,” said Catherine soothingly, patting him on the shoulder. “We’ll find somewhere else to talk. I think Conference Room F is open?”

“Yes, I think so,” said James, sighing and gathering his things. “Sorry Emma. You’d think that in this day and age we’d have figured out air conditioning…”

“I could tell you some fun stories from the sims,” Emma said dryly, looking up at the air vents in the ceiling. Condensation misted out of them, and for a moment they flickered the dull green of cephalopod poison gas. Emma swallowed. “B-but that’s probably something for later.”

“I’d like to speak to you later, alone, if you’re available,” Catherine texted to Emma as the family re-embarked in search of a conference room. “You have patrol, today, I think?”

“I can check if anyone’s free to take my slot,” said Emma. “My shift has a lot of girls on it anyway, so it shouldn’t be too big of a deal.”

“If you could that would be good,” said Catherine. “Thank you.”

“No worries.”

Emma sent the request into the system as the James stuck his head into another conference room. “Right, this seems fine.”

“Today, I’d like to go over the current state of affairs for HSIS and make a few plans for the future,” said James as they sat down. A holographic image appeared above the table, introducing a presentation. “This is going to be kind of dry, so I apologize ahead of time.”

The presentation was indeed dry. Emma ended up zoning out and letting her TacComp record the conversation, pulling her attention back when something particularly notable came up. The company’s finances were holding steady for now, but only through a series of lucky guesses and extraordinary efforts. It wasn’t wise to depend on that for much longer; something needed to change. Ayumi’s wedding placed serious pressure on the Sinclairs to reposition themselves more quickly, accelerating plans in ways that made life more and more difficult. And this wasn’t even getting into the Burnside-Sinclair Matriarchy knocking on their door.

“We’ll have to consolidate a lot of our major resources and start putting out feelers for expansion,” Anna said as the presentation concluded. She blinked through a few sheets of data on her implants. “It’s going to take time to lock down against the initial incursion, and afterwards we can’t allow ‘lack of adequate growth’ to be the reason our valuation tanks. I can put together a few ideas and we’ll go over them later?”

“That sounds like a good idea,” said Catherine. “I’d like to speak with Emma about this privately. We’ll meet later for lunch and go over your ideas, Anna?”

Anna and Emma glanced at each other, but nodded.

“A strategy talk isn’t the best excuse,” Emma texted to her mother as they walked towards Catherine’s office.

“No, but I talked to your father about this and he was okay with it,” Catherine texted back.

“Why didn’t you tell Anna?”

“It didn’t seem relevant,” said Catherine. “Should I have?”

Emma thought about that one for a moment.

“Maybe, maybe not,” she eventually replied. “I don’t know that she could have done anything.”

“I thought so too. Maybe it would have been better anyway.”

Emma shrugged as they entered Catherine’s office and shut the door behind them. “Maybe. I’m not too good at that sort of thing. What did you want to talk about?”

Catherine gestured across her desk. “Have a seat.”

Emma sat. “…Did you actually want to talk about strategy?”

“Something like that,” said Catherine Sinclair, leaning back in her chair and fixing Emma with a piercing look. She folded her legs and lay her fingers against each other, steepling the tips one by one until they braced her face like the buttresses of an ancient church. She was silent for a long time.

“I’ve been a bad mother,” Catherine said finally, sighing and letting her arms drop. “I should never have pulled you out of football in London. Your father has his hand in that, yes, but at least for my part I could have tried to push back. I took the easy way out, and abused my power as your mother to make you do what I wanted you to do. I’ve always thought that way, you know. Treated the people around me as resources. Humans, yes, but still resources. Humans have to be managed, you have to make them happy and want to do the things you want them to do. It’s exhausting.”

Emma shifted uncomfortably and was suddenly very glad that she was alone. Her mother didn’t… open up like this. Ever.

“It was strange, when your father and I decided to have children,” Catherine continued. “We wanted two. We’re still not sure why, but it was important to us that we have two. Maybe it was because we each wanted to have influence over one of you, to fuel our egos, but I like to think I’m not that terrible of a person. I didn’t— you and I weren’t supposed to have this kind of antagonistic relationship. I remember when your father and I were talking about it, we had fantasies of taking you and your sister visiting places and seeing things that most people only ever saw in vids. Instead…”

Emma swallowed, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees and press her forehead against her hands.

“As a family, we’re very good at what we do,” Catherine eventually said with a sigh. “I don’t mean business. We’re good at making decisions and, when the chips are down, to take that leap of faith that is necessary to come out on top. It also means that when we fail, when a bad decision is made, that we fail very hard. You and your sister are the greatest things that have ever happened to me, and to your father, and I took you for granted when I should have made sure that you knew that I loved you.”

Emma pulled back in her seat, startled, and was transfixed by her mother’s fierce stare. “…Really?”

“Yes,” said Catherine. “I just wish that it hadn’t taken a wish for me to realize it. I’m sorry, Emma.”

“It’s alright,” Emma said quietly. The two of them stared at each other across the desk for a long moment, wrapped up in their own thoughts.

“This is a contract releasing your assets in the company to your sister,” said Catherine, flicking the document across the desk. “You never wanted to be part of HSIS, right? I wanted to give this opportunity to you.”

Emma looked down. “I, Emma Sinclair, do hereby and completely transfer my shares and other assets to my sister, Anna Sinclair,” she read out loud. Emma pushed the document back. “I can’t accept this.”

“I can absolve you completely if—”

“What I mean is,” said Emma, “that I can’t— I’m not leaving HSIS.”

Catherine blinked at her. “What?”

“I came in here today prepared to do what I could to help,” said Emma, swallowing. “I’ve talked about it a bit with Anna, and spent some time thinking about it myself. It’s a pain, and I can’t make it into my entire life, but…”

“I cannot promise you that I will treat you differently, if you work here,” said Catherine. “As my daughter, I have failed you, but as my employee, I expect differently. Think very carefully about this choice.”

“I’m expressing interest, not making a commitment,” said Emma. “And besides, transferring my shares entirely would be too extreme. There are other ways that we can solve this problem. But we’re still family, and I still can help, a little.”

Catherine closed her eyes again and took a deep breath. “If this truly is what you want, then I will support you,” she eventually said. “We will need to discuss many details, and not all of them will be pleasant. Are you ready to do that now, or would you like to wait a little?”

Emma shook her head. “Let’s get it over with as soon as possible.”

“Very well.”

“The biggest problem is your relationship with Ryouta Shizuki.”

Emma sighed and crossed her arms from her seat at the head of the conference room table. “Yes, I expected as much.”

“What this ultimately means is that you must be compartmentalized and kept out of our high level discussions,” said Ian Ward, the general manager of HSIS’s day-to-day operations. He was tall and strongly built, an ex-rugby player that had come over from London when the company moved. He, and much of the other high level management at HSIS, had been called together with the rest of Emma’s family to the only conference room that could accommodate a dozen people and give them enough space to work effectively. “It’s… not an ideal place, for an heiress to be.”

Emma waved a dismissive hand. “Information security is important and I got the ego beat out of me in basic training, so I don’t care. How does this effect HSIS?”

“It makes us look bad, and it’ll be an ongoing scandal as long as you’re dating him.”

Emma sighed and leaned back in her chair, letting her head droop across it’s back. “I suddenly regret my life decisions.”

A chuckle rippled through the room.

“It could be worse,” noted one of the executives. “Actually defecting to the Shizuki Matriarchy would have been worse.”

“You can do that?” Emma asked, turning in the swivel chair. “What happens, do they just adopt you?”

“Apparently there’s more paperwork involved, but that’s essentially correct,” said the executive, shrugging.

“Maybe we could get Catherine and James adopted in then,” said another executive dryly. “At that point, there’d be nothing to fight about.”

This drew another laugh around the table and made Emma and Anna make deeply disturbed faces. The idea alone was just… gross.

“Okay, seriously though, why can’t you spin me off into a separate division?” Emma asked, leaning forward again and gesturing to draw on the projector. “Make it something reasonably important sounding, and just make sure that I don’t fuck it up somehow.”

“The easiest way is to just say that your sister is managing it for you while you’re at war,” said Ian, “but that puts a substantial load on Anna, who has enough on her plate already.”

“Mimic the military and put a warrant officer in place,” said Emma. She flicked an image at the projector, drawing out the basic chain of command in all magical girl infantry platoons. “There’s lots of magical girls who are terrible combat leaders. Our job is to make sure we recognize it in ourselves and pass command to the platoon warrant officer if that’s the case. The situation we face here isn’t that different.”

There was a brief silence. “…well, as business models go, that’s probably reasonable,” Ian eventually said. “I would perhaps express it differently to the public, but it’s essentially doable.”

“Do you have someone in mind?” asked James.

“There’s a few, mostly young bucks who could use an opportunity to shine,” said Ian. “We can make the arrangements and then get everyone together to get to know each other within a few days.”

“Then it’s settled,” said Catherine. “We’ll put something together on a trial basis. Ian, can you coordinate the efforts? James and I should recuse ourselves for bias, but whatever you need in resources, just let us know.”

“Of course.”

“In the broad view, you know, all this fuss over HSIS is a bit petty,” said James as he spiked a slice of tomato in his salad during lunch. He glanced out the window at the veranda, where Emma was taking a call on her implants. “In the end, this is all a struggle for power and influence, neither of which is really that important. If all we cared about was allocs, then turning over as much of the business as we could to the Shizuki Corporation would be completely reasonable. Unfortunately, perhaps, that’s not what this is about.”

“The truth is, there are other things more important,” said Catherine. She sighed. “It’s easy to forget that, when you’re focused on the goal.”

“You two are being awfully grim today,” Anna said, raising an eyebrow and stirring her quinoa bowl. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Well, Emma will be going back to the front soon,” said James.

Anna winced. “Ah. Right. I forgot.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s just, how do you give up something that’s such an important part of you when someone tries to take it away?” James continued. He sighed, glancing at Emma again.

“I think— I mean, it wasn’t a good call,” Anna said quietly. “But I think that, all things considered, Emma does forgive you. We just have to move forward from here.”

James snorted. “You’re not wrong,” he said. “Very smart. Just like your mother, Anna.”

“Dad…”

Catherine laughed and patted her husband’s hand. “It’s not often you get a second chance. We’ll make the best of it.”

The family returned to eating, pushing the dark thoughts away for the moment. Emma returned a moment later, grinning broadly.

“So that was the Soul Guard recruiting office,” she said, sitting down. “I’ve been accepted into the program.”

“Oh! Congratulations!”

“That’s wonderful Emma!”

“Thanks,” said Emma. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I— yeah. Thanks.”

“So what happens now?” asked Anna. “You mentioned more training or something?”

“Yeah, it’s a week long of additional training,” said Emma. “Nothing too crazy. Soul Guard are good but they’re not, like, Grenadier Platoons or Aerial Assault. If I do any of that, it’ll be after getting some experience as a regular Soul Guard officer.”

“They’re like the magical girl police then?” asked James. “I hadn’t realized that was necessary.”

“Well, a magical girl’s ability to subvert implant controls is well known at this point,” said Emma, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “So, er, well, you do need someone who can stand up to a magical girl, you know?”

“Ah, yes, that makes sense,” said James. “When will training begin?”

“A week or so,” said Emma. “It basically supplants my immediate deployment. Afterwards I’ll do a tour on an inner colony to get used to standard Soul Guard operations, before transferring to the front.”

“That’s good,” said Catherine. “Your father and I were worried about you. Any delay in your schedule makes us feel that much better.”

“We should celebrate,” said Anna. “Maybe get some of your friends together?”

Emma nodded and smiled.

“We should. I’ll make a few calls.”


	17. Preparations

Rebecca ended up being the biggest limitation on the party’s timing. She could get the time off easily, since the MHD encouraged her to reach out to friends whenever possible, but flying in from Lei Feng would take nearly a week. Emily and Alanis were within a few days’ flight of Earth with their unit, getting refit and resupplied for later deployment while training up a new round of replacements—ones who weren’t completely raw recruits. Vira and Motya were already on planet, but Tracy Geyeller was unable to get away from her duties.

“I just got into artillery school,” Tracy had said with an apologetic smile. “Close support, really, for magical girl offensives. I ship out at the end of the week, so…”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Emma, smiling back. “I’m glad you found something that was a good fit for you. We’ll be in touch?”

“Of course.”

When all was said and done, the party ended up being planned for exactly the day before Emma left for training. This left Emma with some time to use as she saw fit. Classes were wrapping up, leaving Emma with more free time than she knew to do with. It should have been a good thing, since it gave her time to spend with Ayane and Ryouta, but something about it left her restless and jumpy.

Which was how Emma ended up at the Cult’s underground sparring ring with other members of the Knights of the Goddess for some training.

“Rumor has it that you’ve been getting some tips from Kyouko herself,” said one of the older girls as the group set their soul gems into their protective cases. “You’ll give us a good show, I hope.”

“It’s nothing special,” Emma demurred, slotting her soul gem into the foam of her case and shutting the lid. “Just getting me up to standard. I’m still a beginner.”

The other girl snorted. “Surviving Samsara isn’t something a ‘beginner’ does. Let me see how you do. You and me, up there, for the first fight. I want to feel this with my own flesh and blood.”

Emma bowed very slightly and considered the other girl’s abilities. Her costume was heavy plate armor, conforming rather amusingly with certain stereotypes. Her magical girl weapon was an extremely large and heavy shield, its bottom curving into a sharp, wedge-shaped point that belied its supposedly defensive nature.

An advantageous match-up, if Kyouko’s advice was anything to go by. Emma would have a hard time getting past the shield, something made all the worse by the shield’s sheer width.

“My name is Annabelle Montoya,” said Emma’s opponent, bowing back. “It is an honor to fight you. May the Goddess lend you strength.”

Emma’s TacComp had to supply the appropriate response: “It is my honor to be your opponent. May the Goddess grant you victory.”

The other girls broke off into quiet whispers as the two fighters mounted the steps to the sparring ring, then took their places next to each other.

“This will be a standard magical girl fight,” said the senior drill instructor, summoning her own weapon as she eyed the two of them cautiously. “Weapons and powers are unrestricted, but largely simulated. If real magic usage grows out of control, I will separate you. Are both fighters ready?”

Emma summoned her halberd. “Ready.”

Annabelle nodded, then raised her shield. “Ready.”

“Begin!”

Emma threw herself sideways as Annabelle crashed into where she’d been standing, shattering the ground underneath with a loud roar. The impact was accompanied by a pulse of magic that would have sent Emma flying if Kyouko hadn’t pulled the same trick once every other attack. The strength of the blast was greater though—and not because Kyouko held back.

Emma grimaced. This would be a challenging fight.

Annabelle roared again, dashing forward. Emma dropped her halberd and flicked out a hand, her grip closing around the shaft of a Macedonian sarissa and planting its butt-spike into the concrete of the sparring ring. The tip dropped, leveling directly into the center of Annabelle’s shield.

The sound of impact was like the crashing of a tsunami against an ocean wall. Annabelle reeled as the point of the sarissa tore through the front of her shield, nearly taking off her head as a cannonshot of wind exploded next to her ear. Emma’s follow up halberd blow cleaved through empty air, the more experienced girl dodging the attack easily, but Emma had the advantage for now and she knew she only had one chance before Annabelle tried again. Piercing through another magical girl’s weapon was hard enough—worse to try it when your opponent knew that you could pull it off.

The sparring ring vanished under a dust cloud as Emma hurled herself forward, attacking twice more in the span of a few seconds, each impact ending in a detonation that Annabelle was hard pressed to dodge. Even with experience and speed, the sheer destructive potential of Emma’s attack left her off balance. The air was thick with magic, Emma’s hair levitating behind her from the pure unharnessed power being unleashed in the match.

She could also feel the drain on her soul gem. She needed to win, now, or else she wasn’t going to make it. The next attack had to stick.

Annabelle stumbled back once more, bleeding from more than a few places and pulling up a fresh shield in time to watch Emma’s halberd point come screaming in one last time. With a furious shout, Annabelle brought her shield to bear and pushed back. The impact was like taking a cephalopod tank’s main cannon in the face, with the ground splintering under both girls’ feet as magic fought against magic in a screaming hurricane of certain death.

The moment passed, and both girls staggered backwards as the conflicting energies collapsed in a thunderclap of wind. They raised their weapons once more—

“ENOUGH!”

Red chains wrapped themselves around Emma and pulled her into the ground, the impact making her see stars as Kyouko strode over, magic blazing.

“Disgraceful!” the drill instructor shouted, apocalyptically furious. “Utterly disgraceful, the both of you! I don’t care what excuses you have, it is never acceptable to attack another magical girl that way!”

“My apologies,” Annabelle murmured, bowing her head shamefully. She too was chained down by Kyouko’s magic. “I— I forgot myself. I am ashamed.”

“As well you should be!” the drill instructor yelled. She wheeled on Emma, pointing a sword like a drill baton. “And you! Sinclair! I should have you demoted for that display! What were you thinking of, employing battlefield attacks like that? If Kyouko wasn’t in the building, I would be recovering two fucking corpses!”

Emma wasn’t really able to move while chained down by Kyouko’s magic, but the drill instructor apparently took her silence as acknowledgement of her chastisement.

“Now, before we get too carried away,” Kyouko said, leaning on a spear. “I will say that nobody was really in any danger. Emma’s magic can’t get through Annabelle’s shield, and if Emma got hit by the shield she’d go down basically instantly. Girl’s basically a glass cannon. So I think you can let them off a little easy, Drill Instructor.”

The drill instructor sniffed imperiously, but bowed. “I defer to your judgment, ma’am.”

“Very well,” said Kyouko. “As for you two, it is true that you can’t fight each other like that. We stay within the bounds of our simulated powers so that we’re not slagging our bodies for no reason. It’s not good for you to get hurt, or to hurt others, to the point of body loss. You’re both coming off of front line combat rotations, so it’s understandable that you’re still on edge, but you need to keep your heads better in the future, alright?”

Emma hung her head. Losing herself like that wouldn’t be acceptable in the Soul Guard. She was lucky Kyouko was being lenient with her, because if this had been Soul Guard training… “Yes Kyouko.”

“Yes ma’am,” said Annabelle, bowing her head again. “I will meditate on my sins.”

“Alright, off you go then,” said Kyouko. She turned to the drill instructor. “Now, since I’m here already, do you mind if I stick around? I’m avoiding work at the moment.”

“I— if you wish, ma’am,” said the drill instructor, bowing again. “It would be an honor.”

“Cool, cool, then in that case who’s up next?”

Emma did end up with a minor citation on her file. She scowled at it unhappily, absently swirling her sparkling water in the HSIS conference room where she was supposed to be meeting the person managing her stake in the company. The title they’d come up with was “Steward”, which Emma thought sounded pretty snazzy. As to what that actually meant, well, that was what this meeting was supposed to be about.

The door opened.

“Ah, I see you’re already here,” said a man a little older than Emma, hair pulled back into a low ponytail. He bowed deferentially. “My name is Robert Hastings. How are you doing, miss?”

“My name is fine,” said Emma, standing and returning the bow. “Is it just going to be us two today?”

“Yes, barring any particularly troublesome questions,” said Robert with a small smile. “I’d like to go over the major terms of the agreement for management of your shares of the company.”

Emma took a deep breath. “Alright then, hit me.”

“The central clause of the agreement is that, nominally, I will be given fifty percent of the shares you currently own,” began Robert. A diagram appeared over the conference table, showing a flowchart of ownership. “These shares are, of course, technically under the guardianship of your parents until such time as you reach age of majority. As you are a magical girl, this complicates matters significantly, and the relative autonomy your sister operates under generates considerable precedent that must be followed.”

“Is Anna really that unusual?” Emma asked, taking a sip of water. “She’s always been better than me at this sort of thing, of course, but…”

“Most individuals of your age group are not managing 15% of a company’s operations and investments, no matter how small the company,” said Robert. “No matter how you spin it, it is an impressive accomplishment. It is the reason why the various matriarchies keep trying to send boys, and girls, her way, though without much success.”

“…Interesting,” Emma said slowly. Anna had not mentioned that particular detail. “Good for her, I guess?”

“Quite,” said Robert dryly. “The upshot is that if you were to clearly have less influence than her, some very interesting questions would begin to circulate.”

Emma grimaced. “Ah. So what does this mean for me then?”

“You will have to at least appear to be her equal,” said Robert. He flipped to the next slide, now showing a tree diagram of responsibilities that he and Emma shared. “Politics and optics aside, Governance requires that all owners of a company be directors in some respect. For publicly owned entities, what a director even is becomes somewhat vague, but for private companies like us it’s more specific. The most important consideration is that in order to qualify as a director, you must have a ‘significant impact on the way the entity does business’. Generally speaking, that means that as long as you have the authority to make a decision that can either make or lose the company allocs, you’re a director. Now, of course, there’s a lot of ways that you could manipulate that wording, but given the consequences of failing a Governance audit, nobody really plays that game.”

“Still, that’s pretty broad.”

“I’ve always speculated that this is intentional,” said Robert with a wry smile. “It’s a little more friendly than it used to be. Around the end of the Unification Wars, the EDC didn’t really allow you to run a business independently, even, so this is a step up.”

Emma furrowed her brow. “They just… did everything?”

“Not quite. Full control would be too much, of course, especially with the circumstances of that time period, but you didn’t do anything much without the EDC having a say. Once they handed control over to Governance things eased up, a little.”

“Huh. That’s interesting, I guess. It’s hard to imagine.”

“Yes, I agree,” said Robert with a shrug. “It’s the past now, I suppose. The legacy of that is the current wording, which allows for a fairly flexible management structure. All companies are subject to Governance auditing on a monthly basis, so it works out in the end. For us, the structure being proposed is for me to handle the day-to-day operations of your shares as well as provide strategic direction for the fifty percent that I would ‘own’ outright, while you would provide strategic direction for the fifty percent that you own outright. At the end of every month, your performance will be reviewed by the Board and, if you seem to be doing well, some of my shares will transfer to you.”

Emma squinted at the flowchart. “I’m not sure what I can do for that. I’m not exactly well versed in this stuff.”

“Well, I think you will surprise yourself,” said Robert. He flipped to the next slide, which showed a chart of the assessment criteria HSIS used when examining investments. “It’s certainly true that it takes a certain talent to find hidden gems in investing, but actually assessing each company is a very systematic process. You’ll notice that the criteria HSIS examines are based substantially on supply chain and logistics.”

“…huh. I guess that’s why Mum and Dad pushed me towards that.”

“Most likely, yes. The arrangement, in the best case, would be for you to gather information on a company, conduct a preliminary assessment of how suitable that company is as an investment, and provide a report before the end of the month detailing your progress and recommendations.”

“That sounds doable,” said Emma. She pulled up an informational document on the specifics of each assessment criteria and winced. “Well, somewhat doable. This is a lot.”

“Well, the good news is that as a magical girl, you have access to time dilated simulation,” said Robert. “It’s a bit of a depressing use of it, I agree, but well, you can use the reserved time to go on a date afterwards?”

Emma raised an eyebrow at him. “I see that the news has spread.”

“We do all follow the magazines…”

Emma sighed. “You’re not wrong. It’ll be good for us.”

“Best of luck in that regard,” said Robert. He flipped to the next slide. “On that topic, specifically, we hope that this particular business arrangement will make it more doable for you. While you still are doing something as part of HSIS, since I’m in charge of the actual conduct of business, and ultimately answerable to your parents and not you, you are, from a practical perspective, unable to do more than make non-binding recommendations.”

“Which you’re allowed to ignore,” said Emma, nodding along. “And that way, the Shizukis are shut out, while not actually being shut out.”

Robert nodded, smiling. “Precisely. That covers the major points, then. From here it’s mostly details about how exactly we’ll go about doing all this, so I’ll send you the packet now. If you agree to the broad strokes here you can go ahead and sign. There’s nothing surprising in the rest of the agreement, just some legal boilerplate.”

“This all looks fine,” said Emma, flipping through the document to verify the contents. “Let’s get the details figured out then.”

“Very good. If you’ll turn your attention to this diagram…”

Emma met up with Mikoto late that evening in one of the MSY’s many clubhouses scattered across the city. They were the remnants of the MSY’s days as a secret society before the war, a place where magical girls of all ages could meet and relax without having to worry about secrecy. That had changed slightly, with the clubhouses turning into magical girl exclusive bars that catered to different age groups. Mikoto and her patrol squad had specified one of the bars that catered to new contractees, ages twelve and below, and the place was so saccharine that Emma’s teeth hurt when she walked in.

“You seem lost,” the bartender drawled as Emma flinched back at the wave of colors that greeted her as she walked in.

“I’m here to meet a mentee, actually,” Emma said, glancing around the carnival fairground themed bar and wondering if Mikoto really enjoyed hanging out here. In fairness, it was set up like a recreation center combined with a coffeeshop, with supplies for boardgames and buildgames filling a series of shelves along the walls, while the bar was really a combination soda fountain, ice cream bar, and pastry case full of delicious looking pies and cakes. Main seating consisted of several semicircular booths upholstered with comfortable-looking sofas and masses of pillows so that groups of girls could cluster together around one table. The corners held a few secluded nooks and buildzones if you really wanted to be alone, but the room was clearly set up to encourage being part of a group. The whole place was festooned with bright, pastel colors in diamonds and triangles, contrasted starkly against dark, polished wood and gleaming, polished chrome.

“Ah, that explains it,” said the bartender. He pulled a glass out from under the counter and flipped it twice in his hand before plonking it down. “Something bitter to cut the sweetness then? Iced coffee with a shot of almond cream?”

“Sure, that sounds good,” said Emma.

Mikoto’s group of magical girls had colonized a semicircular booth in the back of the house. The three of them were playing some manner of boardgame when Emma wandered over, coffee in hand.

“Hey! Emma!” Mikoto said excitedly, waving her over. “Thanks for coming.”

“Of course,” said Emma, leaning up against the table and looking over the three girls. “I wasn’t going to miss a night out with my mentee just before I started new training. How’re things going?”

“They’re great!” said Mikoto. “Me and Lily and Tabitha just did a patrol the other day and pulled off a super cool combo.”

“You guys are working well together then? That’s good.”

“Yeah! I’m glad I met them.”

That was pretty sweet, and Emma took a sip of her coffee as the other girls flushed.

“I-idiot, don’t say stuff like that!” Lily said, punching Mikoto gently in the arm. “I— thanks, I guess, but it’s super embarrassing!”

“Aw, Lily, don’t be like that!” Mikoto said, looping an arm around her teammates and pulling them in for a group hug. “Being tsundere isn’t cute you know!”

Emma suppressed a laugh and took a still photo on her implants as Lily squawked and Tabitha struggled weakly to wiggle out of Mikoto’s arms.

“Mikoto’s in a mood,” Tabitha sent over telepathy at Emma. “Sorry about this.”

“Don’t be, I’m glad you guys are close,” Emma thought back, settling into a brightly colored seat. Huh, it really was very comfortable. “Magical girls need to look out for each other, you know.”

The conversation turned to meaningless things. Bits of gossip and complaints about instructors and occasional breaks where Emma was called upon to answer questions about magic that she honestly wasn’t entirely sure she was the right person to ask about but that she tried to answer anyway. Eventually they got tiramisu, which was creamy and decadent, and turned to heavier topics.

“So, um, Emma, we were wondering,” Lily started when Mikoto had left to go to the bathroom. “W-well, I mean, I guess just me and Tabitha were wondering what it was like for you on Samsara? If uh, if it’s not too much to ask.”

“Mikoto’s already told us about what it was like living there when it happened,” Tabitha added. “We were, um, curious, I guess.”

Emma sat back in her seat and put her fork down next to her half-finished tiramisu.

“It’s— if you don’t want to talk about it—” Tabitha began but Emma waved at her.

“It’s fine,” Emma said. She looked up at Tabitha and Lily. “Did you want to know anything specific?”

“Um, not really?” Lily said. She fiddled with her silverware. “It’s just, you know, all three of us will be deploying when we turn thirteen, so…”

“Well, nobody can really say anything for certain about the war,” said Emma. She sighed slowly. “Everyone knows at this point that there’s going to be a counteroffensive to pay the squid back for Samsara. It’s just a question of when and how hard we hit. You have to remember that I deployed half trained, and that makes things different.”

“Was it— were you afraid?”

“Of course,” said Emma. She smiled bitterly. “I was scared a lot, and I didn’t always know what I was doing, and… and I lost a friend.”

Tabitha and Lily looked away.

“I… I’m sorry,” said Lily. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Don’t be sorry,” said Emma. She picked up her fork again and poked her tiramisu with it. “I’ll be alright, eventually. Honestly, my training cohort did really well. Out of the girls that deployed, we only lost about ten percent.”

The table fell silent, Lily and Tabitha looking down at their plates grimly. Ten percent wasn’t exactly a small number, and normal attrition rates for fully trained girls were better, but not by much. It meant that almost everyone from Emma’s cohort knew someone who had been killed in combat. It meant that, at least these days, being a magical girl wasn’t about demon hunts and milkshakes. It meant that one day very soon, Lily and Tabitha would be asked to fight, and that there was a very real chance of them or Mikoto or one of their other friends dying in a field somewhere on a distant planet far from home.

Emma sighed.

“Anyway,” she said when the silence became too much to bear. “I wouldn’t get too worried if I was you. Honestly, at least in training, war was pretty boring. A lot of hours waiting, followed by a few minutes of action. You’ll probably get through training fine and do a garrison rotation like I was supposed to. By the time you’ve gone through all that, you’ll be ready. You’ll even wonder why all this scared you in the first place.”

Emma put on her best encouraging smile as Lily and Tabitha looked up at her. Emma wasn’t sure if she believed that, but Lily and Tabitha did, or at least hoped that it would be true.

And for now, that was enough.


	18. Eternity

Emma’s going-away party was held at a park suspended between three towers at one of the many picnic areas available for rent and took the form of a small garden. A covered pavilion, sheltered against rain and wind by wide panes of polyglas, stood at one side, while the opposite end was an open play area that could be reconfigured for different activities. Between the two was a small fountain, surrounded by tables and benches and plants. It included a grill that Ryouta and Ayane had appropriated within minutes of arriving at the picnic area.

The guests began to arrive after Ryouta and Ayane had managed to get a fire going. Alanis and Emily arrived with a pie, then began to help prepare a stack of steaks while Ryouta dealt with a sudden shipment of wine from Sayaka. Anna had ended up manning the grill while Catherine and James relaxed nearby, chatting with Ayane.

“You know, heating the meat through does make it taste better,” Alanis said, flicking an ear absently as she examined a nice ribeye with a critical eye. “The implants only go so far.”

“Eh, I guess,” Emily said with a shrug as she rubbed a mysterious, but tasty, spice mixture into a sirloin. “It’s easier to just eat it raw.”

“If you have the time though,” said Emma, from where she had been banished after accidentally lighting herself on fire and having to get another hoodie delivered by drone, “isn’t it better?”

Emily gave her a look.

“Maybe, but you should stick to raw meat,” Anna said, looking over the grill at Emma with a skeptical expression. “Just in case.”

Emma pouted.

“Soul Guard though, eh new girl?” asked Emily. “Didn’t think that was a thing for you.”

“Well, it was that or Light Infantry school,” said Emma, propping herself up on her hands as she leaned back. “LIS seemed like a… bad idea, all things considered.”

Emily shrugged. “Eh, you were pretty good for a new girl. Probably could have been fine.”

“It’s not easy, for sure,” said Alanis. Her tail swished. “I dropped out when I tried.”

“Really?”

“Light Infantry is a lot harsher,” said Alanis, nodding. “I wasn’t prepared for it, when I was younger. Magical girls get special treatment in magical divisions, but the light infantry really doesn’t care who you are.”

“That sounds likes shit,” said Emily.

“But if you want to do some of the more extreme stuff…”

“MSY Careers said that I had aptitude for Aerial Assault,” said Emma.

“Oh, that would have been pretty cool,” said Alanis, nodding approvingly. “If you can make it through the training, it’s a very niche role that has a lot of responsibility. You’d definitely do well.”

Emma laughed a little. “Thanks, but I think Soul Guard is probably for the best,” she said, smiling ruefully. “Plenty of responsibility there already.”

“Emma!” Ryouta called. “Help me out! Sayaka-san just shipped over a bunch of wine and I can’t lift the crate!”

The group of magical girls snorted as Emma got up and dusted herself off.

“Alright, I guess I’m going to help move some alcohol,” said Emma. “Back in a mo’.”

Renee arrived later, at the same time as Mikoto and her squad, after Emma helped Ryouta haul the crate of wine over and pried off the lid.

“Ah, I have to apologize, Emma, for not keeping in contact,” said Renee, taking a glass of champagne from Emma when she arrived. “We are teammates, after all.”

“It’s my fault as well,” said Emma, handing Renee a glass of champagne. “I… had some stuff to work through, but that’s no excuse.”

“We all did,” said Renee. She took a sip of her wine. “…Is this from Champagne?”

“Benefits of dating a Shizuki,” said Emma dryly, gesturing at where Ryouta was conversing with Alanis while preparing vegetables for grilling. “Shizuki Sayaka sent a case over once she caught wind of the party.”

“That was nice of her,” said Renee. She took another sip. “Are you better now though?”

“Yeah,” said Emma. “I got some help, started dating, joined a cult. You know, the usual.”

Renee huffed a laugh. “I had forgotten your religiousness. How is that going for you?”

“I joined a knightly order too?”

Renee lowered her wine glass and gave Emma a look. “…Well I suppose you never did do anything halfway,” she said eventually, rolling her eyes. “Fair enough, I suppose. I shouldn’t criticize too much.”

Emma rolled her eyes back at Renee. “How about you? You’re redeploying with the 12th Magical Division, right? Under the same command chain you had on Samsara?”

“That is correct,” said Renee. She swirled her wine absently. “I thought about applying for more training in some specialty, but I think my place is in the line, at least for now.”

“I’m sure you’ll do well,” said Emma.

“I must admit that I am sad we will not be fighting together in the near future,” said Renee, a little wistfully. “We made a good team.”

Emma nodded. “We did.”

“Ah well, I will have to adapt,” said Renee. She grinned clapped a hand on Emma’s shoulder. “Good luck Emma. I am sure you have others to talk to, so I will let you get to it.”

Renee wandered off to look at the grill activities. Emma’s attention shifted to Mikoto, who was poking at the controls of the play area with her squad. After a moment’s confusion, the play area suddenly began to move, causing the three girls to jump in surprise as grass and a fence and two goals rose out of the rapidly shifting surface, leaving a small, but entirely serviceable football pitch behind when the ground stopped its undulation.

“Hey Emma!” Mikoto yelled. “Hey, you want to show us some moves? You played football, right?”

Emma shrugged and wandered over. “I did, yes. Did you want to play?”

“Yeah!”

Emma called an end to her side of the football match when Rebecca arrived.

“Hey,” Emma said, coming to a stop in front of her friend. “I’m glad you could make it.”

Rebecca took a deep breath and smiled at her. “I’m glad to be here.”

“Drink?” Emma asked, offering a glass of champagne. “Courtesy of Shizuki Sayaka and the fields of France.”

“Thanks,” said Rebecca. She took the glass and sipped at it.

“How was your trip?” Emma asked as they began to move towards the rest of the party.

“Uneventful,” said Rebecca, shrugging. “Military flight, so at least it was quick.”

“That’s good.”

Emma found herself out of topics and unsure what to say. It was hard, much more than she had thought, to see Rebecca like this in person. The Rebecca Shu who had been bright and cheerful was lost in mourning, and Emma wasn’t sure what to do about it.

“Rebecca,” Ayane said, standing up as they approached and walking over. “Hey. How are you?”

“I’m fine,” said Rebecca, smiling at her too. “You’re doing pretty good yourself, I hear.”

“There’s been way too much gossip about that,” Ayane said, sighing as she waved Ryouta over. “Honestly, where do people even get dirt on us?”

“Now, now, love between two girls is a pure and beautiful thing,” said Rebecca, grinning slowly and evilly. “And if it happens to involve a boy in the middle…”

“I’m not sure I want to know,” Ryouta said dryly as he walked up and Rebecca dodged a swat from Ayane. “You must be Rebecca then? I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“And you’re the Boy,” said Rebecca, holding out a hand. “A Shizuki huh? Well, I guess that’s fine.”

“I’m glad I meet the minimum requirements,” said Ryouta. “We must be all over the gossip columns if you know me that well.”

“Only a little,” said Rebecca. “It’s all very overblown. You three have only been together officially for like a week?”

“Yeah, roughly.”

Rebecca rolled her eyes. “Well, I suppose it makes sense. Matriarchies.”

Ryouta sighed. “Yes.”

The topic shifted to other things, and Emma watched and wondered if Rebecca was really okay, or if she was just doing a very good job of putting up a face for the party. Eventually, Ryouta and Ayane got called back to help with the food, leaving Emma and Rebecca alone.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Rebecca said over private telepathy.

“Did you pick up new powers?” Emma asked.

“No, but you’re not exactly subtle,” said Rebecca. Emma glanced at her, and for a second Rebecca seemed incredibly tired.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Emma asked.

“I’m really not,” Rebecca said, looking at Emma out of the corner of her eye. “It hasn’t been that long, after all.”

“…I see.”

“But, I can’t stay on Lei Feng forever,” Rebecca continued. “My counselor has been pushing me to reach out, and honestly, I don’t want to be sad forever. Varsha wouldn’t want me to be sad for her forever either. So, here I am.”

Emma wasn’t sure what to say about that, so she drank her wine.

“Thanks for inviting me,” Rebecca said eventually. “It must be weird, being around me like this.”

“…it is a little,” Emma admitted. Rebecca smiled at that.

“Well, I’m getting better,” she said. “So, here’s to moving forward.”

She raised her glass. Emma clinked it against her own.

“To moving forward.”

Vira and Motya showed up late, just in time for dinner. It was a loud event, with lots of storytelling from Emma’s childhood and her training with Ayane and Rebecca. They avoided all the depressing topics as best they could, but the mood inevitably dimmed with the lengthening shadows as night slowly fell.

“Helsinberg’s gettin’ a lot better,” Vira said as she, Motya, and Emma sat near the edge of the play area, watching a game of badminton between Anna and Ayane on one team and Ryouta with Rebecca on the other. “It’ll never be the same, but…”

“The trains were fixed, first thing,” Motya said. “Once the rail lines were repaired, everything started to feel like it would be okay.”

“That’s good,” Emma said. She sipped at a glass of soda and watched Ryouta place a shot hard into a corner that Ayane fielded with magical girl grace.

“Do you really think we won’t be deployed?” Motya asked.

“It’s what my mentor said, at least,” said Emma, shrugging. “She might be wrong, but I don’t think it makes sense. You two still need to go through proper training, right?”

Vira and Motya nodded.

“We’re headed off with the next training cohort, actually,” Vira said. “We got the order this morning. Me’n Motya’ll be in Mitakihara for a little longer but we’ll be leavin’ soon.”

“Good,” said Emma. “Getting your training is important. We may not be deployed, but we’ll probably be filling in for other girls that will be.”

“Gonna be replacements,” said Emily, dropping heavily into the seat next to them and clearly very drunk. “Hahaha, man. The FNG!”

Vira and Motya looked to Emma in confusion.

“Fucking new girl,” Emma supplied as she rolled her eyes at Emily. “Can we help you Major?”

“Don’ call me that,” Emily said, frowning at Emma. “An’ nah, I’m just here to give the FNGs a hard time.”

Motya leaned away from Emily. “I see…”

“Realistically, though, if you’re replacing anyone it’ll be units on stand-down,” said Alanis as she walked over to lean on Emily. “They’ll only want full-strength units for whatever is coming, and everything else is going to be rotating back. You’ll be on garrison for a bit and then held in reserve.”

“It’ll be extremely boring,” Emma said, slapping both girls on the shoulder. “You’ll be able to keep entertained, right?”

“Hey, as long as they maintain tradition,” said Emily, grinning widely and evilly. “You two know abou’ the whole tradition with new girls stuck in the rear, right?”

“Oh Goddess,” Alanis groaned, smacking Emily over the head and causing her to fall out of her chair. “That’s bull and you know it.”

Emily whined at her from the ground while Emma, Vira, and Motya laughed.

The party eventually began to wrap up.

“Emma!” Catherine called. “We’re headed out. We’ll meet you back home?”

“Okay!” Emma called back, waving. “I’ll see you in a bit!”

Emma’s family was the last to go, leaving Emma alone with Ryouta and Ayane. Together, they lay down in the center of the play area and looked up at the sky.

“Can you guys see the stars?” Ryouta asked, sandwiched between the girls.

“Yes,” Ayane said. “The satellites too, and all the ships up in orbit.”

“I can’t,” Ryouta said with a sigh. “My implants don’t work that way, I guess.”

“Civilian implants wouldn’t be able to, no.”

“It’s why I got into photography, you know,” Ryouta said. “Originally, I mean. I got annoyed that I couldn’t see what my mother and cousins could, so I saved up a little and bought my first camera.”

“Oh, I forgot your mom is a magical girl,” Emma said. “How’s she doing?”

“Oh she’s over the moon,” Ryouta said, rolling his eyes. “Two magical girls at once! It’s a miracle!”

“…none of your cousins made a contract, did they?” Ayane asked.

“No, no, this isn’t a magically enforced relationship,” Ryouta sighed, smiling a little at the idea. He paused, then frowned. “Wait, hmm…”

“Even if it is, would you care?” Emma asked, looking over at Ayane.

Ayane shrugged and cuddled into Ryouta’s side. “I mean, not really, I guess? It’s not like anything really major happened. Mostly I just found out that Ryouta is an excellent cuddler.”

Ryouta chuckled. “Well that’s good. It’d be annoying if we were still having that contest over Emma.”

“Oh, speaking of which, I figured things out with HSIS,” said Emma. “I have to send them reports and stuff at the end of every month, but I’m otherwise clear. My steward recommended reserving a chunk of dilated sim time to put everything together, then using the time for dating.”

“Once a month, huh,” said Ayane. “That’s… probably doable?”

“Definitely, for me,” said Ryouta. “Civilian life is a lot less hectic.”

“Then we’ll plan on it,” said Emma. She sat up to look down at her boyfriend and girlfriend. The thought still made her heart flutter. “A date, at least once a month, in dilated simulation. We’ll try and make it happen, and we’ll do something silly and romantic and it’ll be great.”

Ayane smiled up at her and reached out to take Emma’s right hand. “That sounds good. I’ll do everything I can to make sure I can come to every one.”

Ryouta took Emma’s left hand. “I’ll come up with some ideas and send them your way.”

Emma grinned. Just a few weeks ago she’d been searching for a way out at the bottom of a glass. She hadn’t known what to do with herself, or where she was going. It had been about enduring, and getting up in the mornings, and just trying to make it through the day. And now, now she’d been accepted into the Soul Guard, was a member of a knightly order, and had, somehow, ended up dating two wonderful people who seemed as interested as she was in making something work.

To think that things could change so much in so little time.

“Okay then,” said Emma, looking down at Ayane and Ryouta in the light of the city and the Moon and the stars and squeezed their hands tightly. She looked at their faces and memorized the way they looked in that moment, and she thanked the Goddess for making it all possible. For protecting her, and saving her from despair.

“Okay then. It’s a date.”


End file.
